


A Whole New Universe (of Problems)

by Lexarius



Category: Farscape, Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27485251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexarius/pseuds/Lexarius
Summary: Moya arrived to Earth in time to witness Third Impact. To late to do anything to stop the Apocalypse. But just in time to rescue the last survivors of NERV and the human race.
Relationships: Ikari Shinji/Katsuragi Misato, John Crichton/Aeryn Sun
Comments: 12
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

_**A Whole New Universe (Of Problems)** _

* * *

_**Please Read and Review.** _ _I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it)._

* * *

"Pilot? Are you seeing this?" Aeryn Sun, ex-Peacekeeper, spoke into her comm, keeping her eyes on the horrifying image on the sensors.

It was Earth, the birth planet of her life partner, John Crichton. But just as Moya was entering orbit, a light like they never had seen before exploded over a place John called 'Japan'. The light coalesced, and _something_ grew from the surface of the planet. Crichton himself stood next to Aeryn, almost paralyzed by the image.

Moya's crew could only watch as what looked like a giant teenage girl raised her head over the planet, holding her hands apart, while a sickly tide of red light and crimson shadow covered the world, and a myriad of crosses made of light erupted at its wake.

A ball made of points of light grew and grew between the giant's hands. It was as if she had a swarm of fireflies in her hands. From their place, they couldn't see the giant's face. The apparition glowed with inner light, like a frozen moonbeam.

John, Aeryn and Rygel stood immobile, watching, unable to believe their eyes. Rygel mumbled something; maybe a prayer, maybe a curse. Pilot's voice drew them back from their horror. "I... I am seeing, Officer Sun. Moya is most distressed by this. She is... she is weeping." In the image of the holographic shell, Pilot's mouth hanged open wide in amazement.

Suddenly, responding to instincts honed by several years of living on the edge, John Crichton’s hand drew his gun in a lightning fast move, pointing at a fourth person on the bridge.

"And just WHO the Frell ARE _**YOU**_?" Crichton wasn't in a good mood. To be honest, he tended to not to be in a good mood most of the time anyway, but the day had been particularly tiring, even before this Apocalypse. He spoke on his comm, "Pilot! We have an intruder!"

The voice of Pilot sounded far away, "I see her, John, but cannot find how she got into Moya!" The group could see Pilot's face bobbing and swaying, almost cropping itself out of the holoimage, a sure sign his four arms were busily manipulating his control console. "She just appeared from nothing. She's not even registering on several of Moya's senses!"

"How did you get in Moya? What do you want?" Rygel addressed the intruder, from his floating throne, more than a little alarmed. The intruder paid absolutely no attention to the diminutive Hynerian Dominar in exile.

The apparition looked at the crew/passengers/escaped convicts in Moya. Her pale skin, red eyes and blue hair enerved everybody, mostly because her face showed not a single iota of _any_ emotion. Not even her body language gave any hint of her purpose.

With the discipline of a soldier, Aeryn Sun pointed her guns at the intruder. One at her belly, the other right between her scarlet eyes. The girl simply stood there, unafraid of the three weapons pointing at her.

The strange girl looked from one to the other, until her eyes fixed on John, staring at him as if looking into his very soul. She tilted her head, studying him, and seemed to glow from inside. Except for her unusual pigmentation and thin adolescent body, she looked like a sebacean teenaged female, completely naked. Her arms hanged limply at her sides.

While Aeryn covered the intruder, John's hard look softened; with a quizzical look, he lowered his own weapon. "Aeryn, honey? Lower your gun, please." He whispered, his rough voice strangely mellow; he kept his eyes on the intruder, while making downwards movements towards Aeryn with his free hand, palm down.

The intruder walked one step closer to Crichton. The exiled Earthling's brow furrowed.

Reluctantly, seeing that the intruder had not made any sudden or threatening moves, Aeryn obeyed and lowered her guns.

Slowly, John got closer to the strange girl. She extended a hand towards him, John mimicked the gesture.

Just as their hands were about to touch, Aeryn heard John mutter a single word.

"Mom?"

As their fingers made contact, John Crichton ceased to be. Several gallons of orange liquid fell on Moya's floor. His clothes fell heavily on the floor. His gun clattered against the metallic deck.

The strange girl's scarlet eyes fell on Aeryn, "You are not a true daughter of Lilith. Your soul is not accepted into the Human Instrumentality. You are free to go."

Aeryn reacted in horror, her fingers squeezed the triggers of her weapons as she screamed in rage and loss. Still, her shots were now aimed to disable, not to kill.

The energy shots impacted against the apparition, making no noticeable damage. The shots simply passed through her body, impacting the bulkheads behind her.

The girl disappeared.

The only proof of her visit was a puddle of orange liquid, slowly spreading on the floor.

Aeryn knelt, picked up John's leather vest, holding it up against her chest for a moment. Her eyes shone wetly. Suddenly, her face set on a determined gesture, her lips thin and bloodless.

She picked up John's beloved gun, Winona, he had named it, for reasons only he understood.

"Pilot!" She yelled on her comm. There was no answer. "PILOT!" She repeated.

"I... am sorry, Officer Sun. It was the surprise."

"I want you to analyse everything that happened here in the last fifteen hundred microts. I want you to go over everything, understood? Energy traces, pheromone emissions, voice signature. Every single thing you can think of that could be useful. Then it will be my turn. Then we compare notes! I want to know who she was, where did she come from, what she did to John, and where did she go. But more important, I want to know how to undo it! Got it?"

"Understood, Officer Sun. I'll do my best. I'll send the DRDs to your position immediately."

Tense as a bowstring, she ran to the supplies room, soon, she returned to the bridge holding a metallic box. With Rygel's somewhat reluctant help, she gathered all the orange goo she could, along with John's clothes, soaking wet with the strange, blood-smelling liquid, and sealed it all in the box.

Only then she allowed herself a choked sob.

At that moment, Ka D'Argo and Chiana entered the bridge, their hair looking as if they had been running during a storm.

"What did we miss? Did we arrive to Urth already?" a smiling Ka D'Argo asked, holding Chiana's shoulders with his right arm.

When they saw Aeryn's face, their smiles were wiped from their faces.

* * *

 _"My name is John Crichton.  
Astronaut  
Three years ago I got shot through a wormhole  
To a distant part of the Universe  
Aboard a ship, a _ **living** _ship of escaped prisoners  
I made friends  
I made enemies  
Powerful enemies, dangerous enemies  
All I wanted was to find a way back home, to warn Earth  
Look upwards and share the wonders I have seen.  
But Earth is dead. Everybody is gone, except for the few traumatized survivors.  
There is nothing left for us here.  
Our destiny is among the stars."_

* * *

_**Chapter 1  
...There Goes the (Solar) Neighbourhood...** _

* * *

The sunlight hit harshly on John Crichton’s eyes. He blinked several times. He winced and rubbed his eyes. "Maaaan... DK really knows how to throw a party...", he mumbled.

He rolled on his bed, and promptly fell down. Once on the floor, he grabbed for the edge of the bed and pulled himself up.

Once he checked he was more or less stable on his feet, he poured a glass of water and drank it in a couple of gulps, followed by another. _'Hydration... I need to re-hydrate.'_ He poured a third glass, dropping a couple of efervescent aspirins in it for good measure, he waited until they finished bubbling away, and drank his third glass of water in five minutes.

Soon he felt good enough to go to the bathroom.

"...ooohh..." He grabbed the sink for a moment, and then he looked at himself on the mirror. He looked like a zombie half-revived. The alarm clock chose that moment to ring. Crichton grabbed his head, ran/stumbled to the night table, and pushed the button to shut the contraption up.

Just as he sighed in relief, his cellphone rang. He answered the call, and lay down on his bed once again. "Hello?" He sat immediately. "Mom? Yeah... Yeah, I'm awake; more or less... No, I haven't forgotten, I will pick you up in..." he looked at his watch "...four hours. Yes, I have your flight number; I will be there with Dad. See you. I love you. Bye." He hanged up. For a moment, his eyes lost focus.

He felt that something was terribly wrong. He shook his head and went back to the bathroom. He needed to shower and eat something. And wake up, that was important.

_Wake up._

* * *

In a perfect world, a man hugged his wife. They had had an awful quarrel just the day before, she had practically bitten his head off, but they had reconciled after a heartfelt apology on his part.

* * *

"Zhaan, come to the bridge, right now."

"Sorry, Aeryn. I can't go now." The delvian priestess answered, stress clearly noticeable in her voice. Aeryn heard a coarse scream in the background.

"What's going on, Zhaan?" Aeryn furrowed her brow. She had recognized the source of the scream.

"Stark is having some kind of stroke. I have my hands full now trying to calm him!"

"TOO MUCH! TOO MANY! THE BLACK SPHERE IS FULL! STANDING PLACE ONLY! EVERYBODY IS HERE FOR THE PARTY! EVERYBODY IS HAPPY! OH, THEY ARE SOOOOOO DAMNABLY HAPPY! SO DAMNEDLY HAPPY THEY ARE! THEY ARE TRAPPED AND THEY! DON'T! _KNOW_! IT! PLEAAAAASE! SOMEBODY MAKE IT STOOOOOOP!"

Aeryn looked around, "D'Argo. Go help Zhaan. Take care of Stark and bring her back as soon as you can."

"Sure,” the sobered Luxan grumbled, and ran out the bridge, licking his lips.

"Hrumph... As if we didn't have enough problems, that fool had to go and jump over the engine. What a load of dren..." Rygel mumbled.

Chiana dope slapped him. "Shut up, Rygel; if you are not helping just keep quiet."

"Yeah, sure, just as you two do. I haven't slept well in an eight-of-a-cycle."

"And aren't you you devoured by envy? Hmm?" Chiana put her hands on her hips.

"Be quiet, you two." Aeryn snapped at them.

Chiana held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Sorry, Aeryn. Just what got your uniform all twisted up?"

"See that box? A weird spectral girl turned Crichton into orange goo and left. All I could gather of John is in that box. I'm this close to scream my head off until my throat is raw and bleeding, so you'll both have to excuse my temper."

"Wait, what?"

"John, strange girl, orange goo, that box." Aeryn nodded her head towards the box. "Now, be quiet you two, I need to think. I don' want to go into this half-cooked, as John would say."

"Um... I think its half- _cocked_..."

"Whatever. Now shut up."

* * *

_**Author Notes** _

I had the idea for this crossover for a long time, but hadn't found the right angle to start.

Originally, my idea was to do a wacky, Farscape-style comedy scene; but that just wouldn't work until, and unless, the Evangelion characters were already integrated into the Farscape world. That scene might eventually be written and published as an Omake. I'll probably just modify my original idea.

In the meanwhile, I want to use the classic Moya crew for the story, meaning Crichton, Aeryn, Rygel, Ka D'Argo, Chiana, and Zhaan.

Stark is not at his best at this moment, for reasons that are obvious to any Evangelion fan. If you are not fluent in EVA lore, don' worry, it all be explained soon.

John's monologue is a modified version of the intro monologue from season three


	2. Chapter 2

_**...You Can Stay in Your Happy Place (...Not Really).** _

* * *

In a perfect world, a scientist assisted to the gala on her honor, opening a new wing of a science tech research institute, named after her. Not after her late mother. She had finally come out from her shadow. Exhilarating as that was by itself, the best part of the ceremony was seeing her loving husband smile at her, clapping his hands off. She grabbed firmly the ridiculously big scissors, and cut the inaugural ribbon. A kid barely on his teens took the scissors back, and another passed her a microphone with stand for her speech.

* * *

"What's going on here!? I can hear Stark's screams from two decks away!", Ka'Dargo asked just as soon as he stomped through the threshold, thoroughly annoyed at the interruption of the afterglow with Chiana, and worried sick about whatever had happened to Chrichton this time.

Inside the cell, Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan struggled with Stark. The man seemed to be trapped in a seizure. He trashed and screamed hoarsely while she pushed down his arms to the floor. His legs kicked up a storm, had they connected against her body, something would have broken.

"NO! Get them out! OUToutOUTout! There is nothing! Nothing to be! HELP MEEEEE! HELP ME GET THEM BACK OUT!" For a moment, Stark's uncovered eye focused desperately on Dargo. "You! You are a friend! Help me, please! HELP THEM! It hurts! It burns my soul!" Then he was lost again in madness and horror.

Zhaan looked at Dargo, trying to keep Stark from hitting himself against the floor of the cell. "I don't know, Dargo! He started screaming just as we came into orbit. I heard him from my room and found him like this." Stark trashed with even more force, almost lifting Zhaan from the floor with the violence of his movements.

Dargo fell down to his knees, grabbing Stark's legs as best as he could. "Hold him _**still**_ for a microt!" he yelled.

Zhaan struggled to do as Dargo had asked, the Luxan added his own, not small, strength to the Delvian's. Without the leverage his long legs gave him, Stark was immobilized for a moment. Dargo took advantage of that, took aim, and in a whipstrike, his poisonous tongue flicked out of his mouth; hitting Stark on the right side of the neck. The toxin acted immediately, but Stark was so agitated, the effect was delayed several microts.

He kept struggling, getting weaker by the second. Just before he fell unconscious, lucidity came back to him. He grabbed Zhaan's arm with frantic urgency, and whispered, looking at Dargo. "Thanks… John needsss… ussss…" His visible eye rolled up, his eyelids closed over it, and his head lolled down to the floor with a solid 'thunk!' as his half-mask hit the deck. All his muscles lost their tension. Dargo and Zhaan looked at each other, then back to Stark for several seconds; neither willing to let go the man in the half-mask, just in case the dose hadn't been strong enough.

Stark breathed slowly. He almost sighed as the visible part of his face slowly relaxed, until he was sleeping peacefully.

Dargo and Zhaan released him. She gasped, "How long will that last?" The worry in her voice was plain to hear.

Dargo shook his head and sat back. "Not sure… He was quite… crazy, even for him. He should have gone down in two microts. At most! He held on for at least ten!" He wiped his face with a hand and nodded. "He might shake it off in a little while, or it might last ten arns, twelve at most, I hit him quite strongly. I'm not sure another sting would do him any favors on the long run."

Zhaan nodded back at him. "Then, in his best interest, we have to make sure he won't hurt himself." She stood up, and wiped her hands on her tunic.

"Sure. One of us should go and get some chains or something…" Dargo kept his place next to Stark, ready to restrain him again if necessary.

"He won't like it."

"Neither do I, but he would like it even less if he breaks something."

Zhaan exhaled a breath. "I'll go. You can sting him again if needed."

"I have some chains in my room." He waved a hand in the general direction of his own room. "The hatch is open."

"…"

He shrugged, "Chiana", he said, with finality; almost daring her to comment.

Understanding dawned in Zhaan's eyes. Accompanied by some disapproval.

On the way to Dargo's cell, Zhaan spoke into her comm. "Aeryn? I will be on the bridge in 700 microts, more or less, I need to be sure Stark will be alright."

Aeryn's voice responded. "Understood. Please hurry up." Zhaan stopped for a moment. Aeryn's voice was too tightly controlled to give away much, but the very fact she was so controlled spoke volumes about her emotional state. She had received a hard blow, and was hanging by her fingertips. She hurried to bring back the chains.

* * *

In a perfect world, a freckled girl walked home from school, holding hands with her athletic boyfriend, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked; while his sister followed them a few steps behind, skipping happily. For some reason, both simply enjoyed being able to walk and took her on a walk every chance they had.

* * *

In a perfect world, John Chrichton waited at the airport. His mother's flight had been just announced by the PA System. She had gone to visit some family, but came back for John's first flight in orbit. This mission would test the concept of the slingshot maneuver on board the Farscape I, and she wouldn't miss it for anything.

"There she is, son." His father smiled widely at the sight. John stood immediately after his father. Both hugged her warmly. John felt a deep longing in the bottom of his heart. He spaced out for a moment. All his instincts screamed at him, something was not right. But what could it be? Mom had arrived safely, there was nothing really bad in the news, his own hangover was receding, Farscape I was right on track, and his girlfriend would arrive later to the Chrichton House. He looked around, seeing nothing that should set an alarm in his head. Just people coming and going.

All is right with the world.

He shook his head, and grabbed his mother's small suitcase, following his parents to the luggage carousel.

Still… Something was wrong. He could feel some unnamable dread, building up.

"Earth to John. Wake up, son." His father snapped his fingers in front of John's face.

John shook his head, "Sorry, dad. I have my head on the clouds today."

He smiled. "I'll drive." And slapped John's shoulder with old familiarity.

John snorted, and before he could think of an answer, his mother chimed, "Shotgun!"

Both men rolled their eyes, laughing. John grabbed his mother's two suitcases, and followed them to the parking lot, struggling with the weight. _'Just what did she pack in these? Bricks?'_ he thought.

* * *

"She's scaring me, Rygel." Chiana whispered at the exiled Dominar's left ear. Neither had taken their eyes of the ex-Peacekeeper for several hundred microts. Aeryn Sun had stood in the same place for at least (five minutes), not moving a single muscle, her arms hanged loose at her sides, in a resting position that still would allow her the fastest movement to bring her guns to bear. Winona, John Chrichton's beloved gun, was in the right pocket of her leather vest. Her eyes were glued to the viewing screen. More specifically, on the white figure that grew from the planet in an impossibly big mass.

The Hynerian whispered back, "You? She's almost scaring _**me**_ , girl! I have seen her like this in very few occasions, and it never went well for somebody. I am glad she's on my side!"

The young Nebari snorted. "Don't you mean you are glad it's _you_ who is on _her_ side?"

Rygel dismissed Chiana's observation with a regal movement of his stubby hand, his eyebrows shot up in a petulant gesture. "Mere semantics don't change things. We are on the same side, and that's what matters."

Chiana left things there, if she started arguing with Rygel, it was very probable Aeryn would focus on them next. And in her current mental state, it was way better not to get on her way. She shook her head, tilting it into an angle, as she used to do whenever she was agitated.

"Pilot." Aeryn said, still immobile. "Please change orbit, I want to see the face of that giant creature. Even with its glow, it looks familiar."

"Changing course, Officer Sun." Pilot's four arms moved with practiced precision on Moya's control console. "We will be on position to watch the profile in close to 2 arns."

"Aknowledged." She kept looking at the giant. "Inform me when you have your part of the analysis."

"I will. Although I must inform you that preliminary…"

"Stop, unless it can't wait. I'd prefer to draw my own conclusions, Pilot. We will compare notes later. Thank you for your concern."

"You are certainly welcome, Officer Sun; yes, the collected data can wait. The DRD's inform me there is no more… urm… there is no good way to say this… There is no more residue to be collected on the deck. They have deposited it at the box you indicated. I am very sorry I cannot do more."

Aeryn's voice didn't betray her emotions. "Thank you, please thank Moya for me, Pilot."

"She asked me to transmit you all her sympathies, John has been a good friend to us, despite his eccentricities."

"We appreciate it, Pilot." After her small outburst of emotion, she had reverted to her Peacekeeper training, becoming utterly focused on the 'mission', she would have to let them go later, but for now, she was keeping her self-control. _'Dammit, John. Look what you've done of me!'_ she thought.

A little over 100 microts later, Pilot's voice intruded in her thoughts. "Officer Sun, I have finished with my preliminar analysis, I can send the data packages to you at your convenience."

Finally, Aeryn turned from the viewscreen. "Good, locate Zhaan and send her here. Another pair of eyes will be helpful."

Both Rygel and Chiana protested with a "Hey!"

"You are included." Aeryn responded rigidly, with a little ice on her voice. "No one says anything. Observe closely, take notes, we will discuss our observations later."

She turned her eyes towards the viewscreen. Moya was already changing orbit, soon they would be able to see the face of the giant.

* * *

In a perfect world, a boy with glasses loved being the pilot of the best and most powerful war machine ever made. It was almost like something out of the manga books from his childhood. His training had been fine tuned to him, and he and his machine worked as a singular entity on the battleground. The giant alien invaders were vanquished again and again, and he enjoyed being the best pilot humanity had on their side during the kaiju war.

He loved the feeling of power he had on the cockpit of his war machine, it was better than anything else on the world. Let others drive fast cars or excel in sports, piloting a giant mecha was orders of magnitude better than that.

Being able to kick the asses of the giant monsters that attacked his city with mechanical regularity was a welcome bonus.

* * *

In a perfect world, a tall, thin man enjoyed the breeze on the naked skin of his torso and legs. His hairless head rested on the back of a low, extended chair as he watched the waves crashing down on the beach, he settled comfortably on his place, watching intensely from his vantage point on a terrace. He mused on just how much he was enjoying being finally free of the black suit that was at the same time, his prison, his liberty, his weapon and his torture.

His long nose sniffed the air with pleasure, enjoying the smells of this place. He knew, of course, it was all an illusion; but then again, so was he. So, he was uniquely qualified to tell illusion from reality. Even his long stay in another's mind had _tasted_ more real than this place.

So, he decided to enjoy the moment for as long as possible. He stretched his arm, taking a tall, cold glass from the low table next to him, and watched condensation drip down the surface. He sipped slowly from the drink. Not having to worry about temperatures was so… liberating…

"So, John… Enjoy your… _paradise_ …" He exhaled softly, in a way that in other beings could have been called a sigh. "Pity it won't last for long. Your own nature will take care of that."

He put the glass back on the table, and before he laced his hands at the back of his head his fingers traced the skin on his temples, marveling at the smoothness.

"Just take your time. I have no… _need_ … to hurry out." He took another sip from the glass, "Ahhh… your people has a remarkable talent for the simple pleasures of life…" He licked his almost inexistent lips, relishing the taste.

The man snapped his fingers, and an obsequious waiter arrived immediately at his side. "Would you like another margarita, Sir?"

"Not this time. A mojito would be in order, I haven't tried those yet. And bring some snacks too. Something _salty_."

"Immediately, sir." The waiter bower, and hurried up to bring the order.

A car passed in in front of the resort, the thin man already knew who was inside. He raised his glass in a salute. "I do like your paradise better than mine, John. Had it not been for you, I'd be up to my neck in dead Scarrans." His smile showed two rows of strangely serrated teeth.

* * *

_**Author Notes** _

Stark can feel souls as they pass into whatever the afterlife in Farscape is, but it always affects him. If the manner of death is especially traumatic, it affects him even more. The amount of people dying has a cumulative effect. The Human Instrumentalization process is an abomination to him, and it hit him with the force of a runaway train.

**(Evangelion spoilers next; as if the previous chapter wasn't spoilery enough)**

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All human beings were condensed into a singular entity in The End of Evangelion. As part of the Human Instrumentality process, each and every soul in the gestalt entity is living their perfect paradise, their perfect world. It is a very insidious trap, who would want to escape Paradise, after all? Especially not knowing it is a false reality. Similar to The Matrix, now that I think of it. (Maybe something to explore in another story, later.)

In any case, as the catalyst of the process, Shinji Ikari decided to leave an escape hatch. Anybody can get out of the Sea of Souls, they only have to decide to go back to reality. By the end of the story, only he and Asuka Langley Soryu had left the Instrumentality. But there was hope more people followed.

Still, both were terribly traumatized by both the previous events, and their own twisted worlds.

Plus, civilization had been effectively erased. At least in Tokyo-3, the epicenter of the event, the destruction of the city was very complete; barely any buildings were left still standing. It is conceivable that the destruction was less severe the further away from Tokyo-3, but still, the damages should have been considerable, as the sudden disappearance of every human being surely left many moving vehicles moving by themselves. And that's not even counting industrial processes, cooking and every human activity with any potential for a destructive accident.

Except for Chrichton himself and another, all the "in a perfect world" mini-scenes are the perfect worlds of the Evangelion characters. Have fun identifying them!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Domestic(ated) Bliss** _

* * *

In a perfect world, a gang of eight kids played baseball in a park, against a group of visiting kids they had met in school. The pitcher sent a fastball to the hands of the catcher. The bat swung and failed. With that last strike, the game ended. Pitcher and catcher hugged each other, jumping up and down celebrating their victory.

They never saw the kid who watched them from the distance. The wind played with his short, brown hair. A look of fathomless sadness in his eyes.

* * *

"Erin! Honey! Did my son finally decided on making an honest woman out of you while I was away?" Leslie Chrichton hugged the tall woman who awaited for the group in the Chrichton House living room, comfortably seated on the large couch.

The tall woman shook her black hair, and stood up, smiling at her future mother-in-law; she wore a white blouse and pants, with big yellow polka dots, she almost looked like a trendy hippie from the 1960´s, but the clothes just complimented her in a way John had never seen in any other woman. "Not yet, Leslie! At this speed, I´ll have to do the deed myself!" she laughed openly, looking his expression.

"Wowowowowowo!" John protested, waving his hands. "No ganging up on me you two!" he shrank under the answering rain of cushions, taken from the coach.

"C´mon, Johnny Boy! Your flight is in a week!" Erin Sunn hit him several times with the last cushion.

"Relax, you two. Ow!" Playfully he wrestled the cushion from his fiancée's hands, and proceeded to chase her around the living room, blandishing it over his head, exaggerating as much as possible. The couple laughed like children. "Come back here! You coward!" He swung the cushion, deliberately failing to hit.

John´s parents smiled and decided to leave them to their antics. Both exchanged a look full of meaning, and without a single world, ran up the stairs.

Eventually, John caught Erin, and wrapped her in a hug from behind, lifting her and kissing the nape of her neck. "No! It tickles!" Still laughing, she struggled but couldn´t get herself free from his arms.

"All hail the mighty conqueror hero of the sky!" John laughed, releasing her and striking a pose. Both began to laugh, without a care in the world.

"Keep dreaming, Johnny Boy! You better wake up and pop the question _before_ you put your ass in that flying can of coffee!"

"What? The _Farcape I_ is the best ship ever seen in this galaxy!" He mock-pouted at her.

"And you are the best pilot in the universe!" She smiled at him and grabbed his head for a deep, searing kiss.

He pushed her off for a second, just studying her face. Her features were hard and angular, but her warm smiles always melted John Chrichton´s heart. And her kisses ranged from sun-hot to tender, with all the variations he could ever want.

"Never, ever, forget that, honey." He pulled her back for a deeper kiss.

* * *

In a perfect world, an old professor watched proudly the graduation ceremony. It was a very special occasion, as the boy graduating at the top of the class was the son of his favorite student. The boy was even more intelligent than his mother, and was the closest to a grandson the old professor had. They had been very lucky when that good-for-nothing had died in a traffic accident back when the boy was barely out of diapers.

The father of the kid had been a damned upstart, a gold-digger, a bar brawler looking for an easy way to climb socially. He never bothered to connect with the boy. After his demise, the professor had stepped in, becoming something like a honorary grandfather.

To this day, what exactly his star pupil had seen in that waste of DNA was a mystery for the old man.

When students, parents and guardians came out the building, no one noticed the kid sitting on a bench at the other side of the street, shoulders down, the head hanging on defeat.

* * *

Chiana shook her head. "She almost looks like a sick Nebari." She pointed at the recording Pilot was replaying for the fourth time.

"What would a Nebari be doing in this little speck of dirt?" Rygel moved the controls of his floating throne, hovering around the group, and pointed at the image with a short, stubby finger.

"I didn´t say she was a Nebari, Rygel." Chiana answered dryly, she pointed at the image. "Look closely, she lacks the secondary coloring on the skin. It looks almost translucent. Any healthy Nebari´s skin is more opaque than that. Look at her hands, you can see the tendons and blood vessels under her skin. A Nebari with a skin that translucent would already be in the other side."

Everybody around stared at her, studying her pigmentation. "Are you happy now?" she put her hands on her hips, only to raise them to the heavens in annoyance a moment later. "Come look at the Pretty Nebari runaway!"

"Enough," Dargo put a hand on her shoulder, still looking at the image. "Chiana is right. This intruder is no Nebari, look at her belly. No Nebari I´ve ever seen has that puckered scar." The intruder had a navel in the middle of her belly, just like a sebacean or a human. "The closest I can say she is to any of the races I know of in the Uncharted Territories would be a Sebacean; and still, she´s too pale. She would have to be from a small independent Sebacean colony, the Peacekeepers would cull her immediately after birth." The Luxan raised his eyes and a conciliatory hand towards the only Sebacean on board Moya. "No offense, Aeryn."

The ex-Peacekeeper grunted sharply and shook her head. "None taken. It is the truth."

Dargo rubbed his beak, thinking. "That blue hair wouldn´t check with any Sebacean offshoot I know."

Aeryn added. "The same. Could it be a wig? Maybe it´s tinted."

Zhaan walked around the image, her robe rustling softly with each movement. "I doubt it. It is her natural pigmentation. Look at her eyelashes." Dargo shifted his weight uncomfortably from one feet to the other, his eyes had wandered down. He cleared his throat, while Zhaan continued. "What did she meant calling you ´ _no true daughter of Lilith_ ´? And what is this ´ _Human Instrumentality_ ´ she mentions?"

"Must be some weird human religious thing." Rygel added. "Chrichton is a complete nutcase."

Aeryn glared at him. "He is our nutcase, _My_ nutcase." She looked at the others, daring them to dissent. She exhaled softly once she saw there wouldn´t be any. "His culture is strange to us. That´s all."

Rygel snorted. "They are all crazy, I say. Only reason they would send such a madman in a spaceship in the first place!"

Pilot´s voice interrupted them. "I have concluded the analisys of the orange liquid. It only contains normal organic molecules. As far as Moya and I can tell, it contains every molecule John´s human body was made of, but separated and remixed in a homogeneous liquid."

"You mean Chrichton was _actually_ rendered into his components?" a horrified Chiana asked, she looked like she was about to get violently sick. From behind, Zhaan grabbed her by the shoulders, comforting her.

"Lacking a better description, yes." Pilot continued, "The slowed recording shows his molecules losing cohesion in barely a hundredth of a microt. I´m sure he didn´t even realize what was happening. After a short pause, Pilot added. "Do you want me to replay the recording magnified and in slow play?"

Chiana shuddered. "Not in my presence. It was bad enough to see it in normal speed. I don´t wan´t to see him disintegrate in liquid."

Dargo nodded in support. "I will see it, later." He shot a significant look at Chiana, and shrugged, "Maybe I can find something." She nodded.

"Any way to revert the process, Pilot?" Aeryn bit her thumb for a second. Her eyes wandered towards the box that contained John´s clothes and the orange goo

"Not to my knowledge, Officer Sun. We are sorry."

Aeryn nodded.

"Maybe his people will know what to do." Zhann observed. "The girl mentioned something about ´ _souls_ ´. Pilot? Have you tried to establish communications with Earth?"

"John asked me not to." His head moved in what could have been a shrug, had he had the articulation required for that. "We were to enter orbit cloaked, monitor transmissions for several arns, and then he would decide on what to do. Moya began her monitoring as soon as we came out the starburst. But the amount of transmissions dropped significantly almost as soon as she began monitoring them."

"Sensible on his part." Aeryn raised her eyes. "Examine the current transmissions, please. Look for any mention of ´ _Human Instrumentality´, ´Lilith´_ or _´souls´._ That should give us a place to begin." She exhaled in frustration.

Pilot´s image bobbed on the holoprojector. He seemed to hesitate for several microts; when he spoke again, his eye ridges wrinkled in dread. "Officer Sun? Moya cannot detect any active transmissions at the moment. She is picking up some traffic from several satellites, but they are going off by the microt. She thinks the satellites´ orbits will begin to decay soon. There are a few mentions of souls in the transmissions, but in the context of… um… ritual mating songs? I´m not sure."

"Then look for the biggest population center. Use Moya´s senses."

Pilot´s arms moves efficiently. Several microts later, he exhaled a horrified sigh. "There are no occupied population centers, Officer Sun! Moya cannot find a single human being on the planet!"

An alarm chimed them. Everybody looked around, looking for the cause. Rygel´s breath choked in his throat. His eyes grew big as saucers. He couldn´t find his voice for a moment, until he rasped, pointing at the viewing screen with shaking fingers. "It´s her! The girl!" Everybody´s eyes followed the direction he was pointing at. Aeryn drew Winona and one of her own guns, ready to point at the intruder. But there was no one else in the bridge.

Outside the bridge, however…

Moya had finally reached a position to look at the giant´s face. It was a perfect duplicate of the girl who had liquified Chrichton, in an inconceivably vast scale. Just the irises of her red eyes were bigger than Moya was long, and the pupils were dilated enough for the living ship to pass through into her eyes. Her facial expression was pure, distilled madness. Her unfocused eyes lost in the distance, and her mouth twisted in a grin the size of a continent.

Several microts of tense silence followed. No one dared to speak or move.

* * *

In a perfect world, a girl skated on a park, hurrying home, back to her parents. She had just received a call from her mother, telling her to pack her luggage for a trip to Europe! She stopped for a moment, digging on her fannypack for some coins to buy a popsicle from a street vendor.

She pulled on the zipper hanger, the figure of a cartoonish penguin with a robotic backpack.

The girl paid for her snack, and resumed her way home, enjoying the refreshing sweetness in her mouth.

A lock of black hair escaped the helmet, and with a smooth and practiced movement of her left hand, she pushed it back under it.

Once she had skated away, a teen wearing a white shirt came out from behind a tree, dragging his feet.

* * *

In a perfect world, an athletic boy walked home from school, holding hands with his freckled faced girlfriend, enjoying how she resting her head on his shoulder as they walked; while his sister followed them a few steps behind, skipping happily. For some reason, both simply enjoyed being able to walk and he took them on a walk every chance they had.

In a café, a blue eyed young man watched then, envy and sadness competing in his eyes.

* * *

In a perfect world, a tall, bald man with a long nose had the time of his live. Actually, it was the first time of his life.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, he had put on a strident Hawaiian shirt and gone out into the evening. It took him only a few moments to find a nice bar with a live band. He sat in a dark corner, listening to the band play old songs. After a few minutes, the man had had enough. He rose from his seat, went to the stage, spoke to the leader of the band, and slipped a few bills into his hand.

"Are you sure? Not that I´m complaining about the money, but sometimes the crowd gets a bit hard to please." The man was torn between greed and dread; more tan once, an amateur had ruined a night. At least this guy wasn´t drunk.

"Let´s put that to the test." The tall man entoned, raising an eyebrow. The vocalist nodded once, and turned around. "Yo, Wayne, this gentleman wants to play a song with us. Do you mind loaning him your drums for a couple of songs?"

"Ah donnnow, man. It belonged to my dad."

The tall man smiled a strange smile, his teeth looked funny in the dim lights of the bar. "Worry not, my friend. I´ll take good care of your set." He slipped several bills on the drummer´s hand. "And, should I not, well… Let´s consider this a deposit for the replacement of anything I could damage."

The man looked at the bills, wetted his lips, and rose from his place. "Shur-man, go nuts. Uh, Donny? Ah´ll be adda bar."

A few minutes later, the tall man was busy playing a very good rendition of "Sharp Dressed Man" along with the band. His style was a bit rigid and clipped, but very precise. Not a single beat out of place.

The tall man smiled to himself. He had caught the eye of three women in the bar. A blond, and two brunettes.

He whispered. "Oh, John. If only you knew how much fun I shall have before you go back."

* * *

_**Author Notes** _

The bar scene is a callback to one of Farscape hallucinatory episodes. Scorpius/Harvey´s actor, Wayne Pygram, plays the drums, and this was used to set up a fun gag with Scorpius/Harvey, playing the drums in a bar while Chrichton is around. Of course, he was wearing his full Scorpius suit, sticking out like a sore thumb in the ambiance of the bar.


	4. Chapter 4

_**You Are (Not) in the Outside Looking In** _

* * *

´Ah… This _is_ the life.´ The tall man thought as he got up from his bed in the hotel room. Under the sheets, the blonde and one of the brunettes stirred a little.

"..Harv, Honey…" one of them mumbled in her sleep, he didn´t know which one, and actually he didn´t care that much about it. Both women were mere figments of John Chrichton´s imagination. "…Come back to bed…"

He ignored ´ _her_ ´ for a moment, and entered the spacious bathroom. He let some water run in the sink, and washed his face. He took a towel to dry his skin, and looked at his reflection on the mirror.

 _´Remarkable what an illusory paradise can do for your complexion. And for your internal temperature regulation too.´_ he mused.

"…Harv…" This time it was the other ´ _woman_ ´.

"I´m on my way, my dears." He returned to bed.

"Hmm… So nice of you to stay, little ones. What do you say we go down and paint this city red? Your choice of shade and tone." He chuckled. In another circumstances, that chuckle alone would have been enough to send shivers of fear down the spines of soldiers, mercenaries, and assorted low-lifes.

Here and now? It was merely endearing. Especially as he was in a way, controlling the flow of the events.

The blonde was more awake now, and she grabbed him by the neck, kissing him deeply. He stiffened for a moment, then remembered where he was, and relaxed again, returning the kiss.

"I´d prefer to stay inside, Harv." She smiled with lust at him.

"I know, my dear. Just a little fun, then room service." He smiled his strange smile. Funny, his ´ _body_ ´ was completely human, except for his teeth. Those were still the same Scorpius had.

"I´m in the mood for some pizza _and_ margaritas. What about you, girls?"

"Nobody has pizzas and margaritas, Harv. Especially for breakfast." The brunette remarked.

 _´Damn your subconscious, John. I_ _ **want**_ _pizza_ _ **and**_ _margaritas!´_ Harvey shrugged. "I have, and I will, little ones."

* * *

In a perfect world, a small girl skipped happily behind her brother and his girlfriend. The big lug had taken his sweet own time to realize he actually liked the strict Class Rep, and even longer to gather his courage and actually offering to accompany her in the walk back to her home. And the teenage girl was no better; she did know she liked him, but hid her attraction behind her stern façade at the front of the class.

In the end, it had been on her hands to put both fools together. She sighed. The work of a little sister never ended.

From a café, a pair of sad blue eyes watched them.

Further still, another pair of blue eyes watched too, narrowing in annoyance.

* * *

"Everybody is clear on the plan?" Aeryn had put her old flight suit on. The helmet hid her face completely, it would be hard to see even the bulk of her head once the suit was sealed.

"Yes, yes, Mom." Chiana recited, a bit testily. "You go first, just in case these humans have something like a remotely decent defense web." Her head tilted in that particular way of hers, as if she was studying her, evaluating her. By now, Aeryn was so used to this gesture, it didn´t even registered on her mind.

Ka D´Argo continued, while putting a package on his back, almost like a backpack, taking care not to tangle the strips on his Qualta Blade. He spoke more to calm their tempers than any eagerness. "Chiana and I will follow you in the shuttle. I´ll pilot, while Chiana scans all frequencies on short range."

Now it was Rygel´s turn, the diminutive Hynerian maneuvered his floating throne around the group, waving lazily his left hand in a royal gesture. "I´ll stay here to monitor long range transmissions and to act as a liason, should any humans respond. I am the best suited to be the diplomat, as it is. I´d prefer to sent one of my ambassadors, but I shall be enough." He finished, and smiled smugly, as was his custom. His triangular face and thick lips were singularly gifted for smug smiles. He took place at the comms console, making sure the controls were on reach of his stubby fingers.

Zhaan checked the vital signs of Stark´s unconscious body, she and Dargo had brought him to the bridge, where he could be watched and cared for. Stark was still chained, and breathed with the regularity of a sleeping baby; he would stay like that until the effect of Ka Dargo´s tongue sting wore off. "I´ll watch Stark. In case he has another episode, I have prepared enough ingredients for several calming solutions; they are ready to be mixed and applied at a moment's notice; otherwise, they will lose some potency." Zhaan caressed the left side of Stark´s face with her right hand, the Banik relaxed a bit more at her touch. Zhaan checked once more on the series of little containers at her reach. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to Stark. She smoothed her sky blue robes with her hands, her golden collar shone in the light.

Aeryn nodded. "Good, keep him safe. I have the feeling Stark got hit by whatever happened down there. Both he and the girl spoke of souls." She shook her head, checking her ponytail was secure and wouldn´t come loose inside the helmet. A couple of strands had gotten loose, she pushed them back in place. "Pilot? Are you ready to open the docking bay."

"Everything has been prepared. As soon as you give me the signal, I´ll open the dock. While you return, I´ll maintain orbit over the place John said his base was placed; while you go down to the planet, Moya and myself will keep watch over the giant, and monitor satellite traffic, low as it is."

"Good. Feed the coordinates to my Prowler."

"Transferring." His amber/reddish eyes swiveled over Moya´s main control panel, although his arms were out from the holoimage, their movements were evident on the bobbing of Pilot´s image.

Aeryn Sun sighed. "I never expected to go to Chrichton´s home in these circumstances. Anyway, I hope his base will be accessible. Maybe we can find somebody hidden. Now, how was that place called? Cainavirral?"

"I believe it is ´ _Canaveral´,_ Officer Sun;after a kind of plant growing in the area. John liked to reminisce about the place sometimes between working on Moya´s systems and pestering me about some thing or another. He was very proud of his people´s achievements, primitive as they were. He drew me a map on a wrapper once. It wasn´t really that accurate, but it is enough to match it with some landmarks. Although there are some places where the coastlines are quite different from that drawing, especially on the South Pole, the site is still recognizable. Hmm... He never mentioned the seas of his planet were redish orange in color. At least in part. I distinctly remember he used to call Earth ´The Big Blue Marble´. Not Red and blue. "

Pilot manipulated several controls on his console before continuing, "You should be able to pinpoint its exact location once you are in the general area. According to John, there is a large clear area around several tall structures his people use to stabilize their primitive delivery systems for their ships. They are very distinctive, lots of exposed girders over a large platform. The control rooms would be in a building close to those structures. Moya has selected several places that more or less correspond to that description. The coordinates are already in your Prowler."

Aeryn nodded. "Thank you, Pilot." The group walked to their ships.

"Well…" grumbled Dargo, "We are on Urth." He checked his acces to his Qualta Blade one last time. Satisfied, he turned to board.

"Earth." Aeryn corrected him softly.

"Yeah, I know." He put his package in the shuttle´s cargo bay, and followed Chiana inside.

Aeryn´s Peacekeeper Prowler had an angular and aggressive design, it had been made to intimidate with its very presence. The shuttle was a boxy ship, all its length punctuated by a series of external support beams, that gave it the aspect of a ribcage.

Once the two groups had boarded their ships, Aeryn signaled Pilot, although Pilot couls monitor them from Moya´s Control Room, everybody on board mantained a sense of courtesy towards him. And clearing all ship procedures with him was at the top of the list.

The doors into Moya´s inner areas slid close hermetically, once they were closed and checked the docking bay depressurized, keeping the atmosphere in a couple of ´lungs´, ready to be returned to the docking bay when neccessary.

The big doors at the other end of the docking bay slid began to open to space. There was a slight air current, nothing big, as there was only the barest atmosphere inside the bay.

Back on the bridge, Rygel mumbled, his confident mask slipping for a moment. "At least we will be far from that thing. I hate to feel its eyes looking at us. They remind me of some of the worst nightmares I´ve ever had. And that includes Durka." The diminutive Hynerian maneuvered his floating throne back to the comm console, and locked it into place.

* * *

In a perfect world, a girl with black hair walked into her room at home. Her mother had given her the good news. Her father was on his way home. As soon as he had rested a couple of days, the whole family would finally go on vacation!

She put a cup of instant curry in the microwave, and just as she pressed the _Start_ button, she felt something was wrong.

But what could it be? Everything was... perfect. Absolutely perfect.

And yet... something was missing.

* * *

In a perfect world, a young woman was getting ready for a date. Not any date, mind you. It was a date with the woman she had admired for a long time. The most brilliant scientist of the age. And if everything went right... well... the night was young, and who knew what the morning could bring? She blushed, and grabbing her purse, went out her apartment. A last look at the clock on the wall showed her she was a few minutes late! She would have to hurry up. She didn´t want a bad impression to ruin her chances.

She came out her building, almost running, and she knocked down a boy in the way out. She turned around, apologizing quickly; and ran away to hail a cab; leaving him behind, sitting on the floor.

From the other side of the street, a long haired girl watched from the shadows, her fists tightened.

* * *

"It´s time, John!" Erin´s voice cut through John Chrichton´s consciousness like a knife. Last night activities had been... quite tiring. He couldn´t imagine how his grilfriend coulbe be so energetic on the mornings! He guesses she must be a morning person, but that didn´t mean he had to be one too.

John Chrichton mumbled something in his sleep. Erin prodded his ribs with a finger, until he finally cracked open an eye, "ahdonwannagodoschooll…", he mumbled, and went back to sleep.

"Wake up, Mister! On your feet, soldier!" Erin shook him several times. Then she played her winning card, "If you stay on bed, big bad Gary will pilot Farscape I!"

John bolted out of the bed as if propelled by a spring. He put his t-shirt so fast he didn´t notice it was inside-out and back-to-front, as he yelled, "NEVER! That´s my baby!"

Erin crossed her arms, looking amused. "That´s better, now, go to the shower and then down for breakfast, Leslie already made pancakes And for Pete´s sake, put that shirt the right way on." She laughed while John checked he had actually put the shirt on as she had said.

* * *

In a perfect world, a young man enjoyed the kiss of the most perfect woman in the whole world. Sure, she was a few years older than him, but in the end, that didn't' matter to them. The movie had been good, and put her in a romantic mood. They stopped at the corner, taking advantage of the traffic to kiss.

His eyeglasses rested askew over his nose, while his fingers grabbed her purple hair.

At the next corner, a teenage boy stood on the door of a store; watching them, a spark of jealousy in his eyes. He walked away, his steps heavy and leaden.

From the parking level of a building, a teenage girl watched too. Angry and impatient. He began to stomp her way after the boy, but he disappeared into thin air.

* * *

In a perfect world, an old professor sat on his study, reviewing the pictures from the graduation of his almost grandson.

He smiled, happy and content.

Still... somethying nagged him. It was a strange feeling in the back of his mind. Everything was perfect.

But for some strange reason... something was wrong.

* * *

_**Author Notes** _

So, yeah, Harvey really does like the idea of having pizza and margaritas, Chrichton is not that keen on that… (´Crackers Don´t Matter´)

* * *

 _Big Blue Marble_ was a children TV show I used to watch when I was a kid. Sadly, I can barely remember anything about it. The name came back as I was writing Pilot´s dialogue contrasting Chrichton´s descritpions of Earth with its current state.

* * *

The way Erin convinces John to get up and go to work was taken from an old Mafalda cartoon. Mafalda was a newspaper strip, a slice-of-life of Argentinian life back in the 60s and 70´s. The humor is quite accesible, even today, most of it is still relatable. Of course, some of the punchlines depend on knowing how daily life in Argentina went under the dictatorship... but those are a minority.

In that particular strip, Felipe, a school age kid, doesn´t want to go to school. His mother yields to this, and fondly reminisces about how she loved those times another student on her class would miss a day, because then _she could go to their desk and stay there_. Felipe jumps off the bed, yelling something like "I´ll **NEVER** allow Fatty to sit on my desk!" He gets to school early, just as his mom intended.

Quino´s work is always fun and great to read. Apart from his Mafalda strips, original published in newspapers, he also has a lot of wordless cartoons. Looke for them on the web. (the maid picking up the room after a party is great. Especially if you too hate the Guernica...)


	5. Chapter 5

_**Moments in Time (and Space)**_

* * *

"Farscape One, hold a moment." D. K. spoke with a calm he didn't really feel, he stood up from his chair in IASA's Command Center, behind him, Jack Chrichton tensed up.

At the edge of the Earth's atmosphere, a little one-man ship struggled against the rarified air, keeping a precarious balance, skipping over the atmosphere like a thrown pebble over water. Training behind it, a plume of fire followed it closely, enveloping the ship in a cocoon of light and heat.

"Canaveral, what?" John's head shook side to side in the cockpit, trying to keep himself as stable as posible.

D.K.'s voice answered, "Meteorology reports some kind of electromagnetic wave. Repeat, some kind of wave. John, do you read me?" He turned to his right for a moment, to see Jack holding the back of his chair with a death grip.

Farscape 1 shook with even more force. "Yeah, I read you." The shaking was uncomfortable, but not unexpected. Actually, this kind of shaking was exactly as his theory predicted, and the Farscape 1 had been designed to cope with it. The turbulence was well below the safety limits..

However, static interfered with their transmissions, D. K. only heard fragments of his friend's voice.

"Wha- are - talk—g h-re? How seve-?"

Up in Farscape 1, John Chrichton struggled to control his craft. "Canaveral? Canaveral?"

Frantically, D. K. issued the only command that made any kind of sense at the moment. "John, abort!"

"Ca-av-al! C-na-era-!"

Jack Chrichton took the mike, enunciating the order with a forced calm, he knew John's best chance depended on him actually understanding his orders. "Son, you have to abort! Abort **NOW**!"

Right then, a wave of blue light hit Farscape 1, enveloping the ship with strange radiation. John grabbed the control stick with all his strenght, pulling and pushing. Trying to stop the crazy cartwheels of his ship.

He felt light on the head, if this continued, he could fall unconscious! "Wake up, John!" He mumbled. " **WAKE UP!** " With a supreme effort of will, he tensed and relaxed the muscles of his legs several times, forcing the blood in them to go back up to his brain. Immediately, he felt the rush of oxygen clear his mind, and he began to push buttons as fast as humanly possible.

In front of him, a ball of light coalesced, right in front of his tumbling ship. The vision galvanized him, with the last of his strength, he recovered control of Farscape 1. He barely managed to avoid hitting the ball of light.

On Earth, Mission Control watched as the strange ball of light exploded. All comms crackled into a fierce roar of static.

"Canaveral?" John paused, waiting for an answer. "Canaveral? Do you copy? Mama Bear, are you there?"

After a long moment, D.K. answered. "-ma Bear he-, Farsca- One. Glad to hear you. John, are you okay?" he sounded very relieved.

Still worried, Jack Chrichton took the mike. "Son? What happened? Can you land?"

"Dad, you wouldn´t believe it! I hope the cameras got it, because it was a DOOZY!" John sounded euphorical, probably he was still riding the adrenaline rush. He began to cackle, but he recovered his self-control in a couple of seconds.

Jack sighed in relief. "I can´t wait, son." The smile in his voice was very much in evidence.

"Woohoo! That was a tale for three beers!" John shook his head, "Ahem." and he forced himself to focus in more immediate matters. His voice reverted to the controlled, consummate, professional. "Canaveral, checking systems now. I´ll keep the line open while I wait."

A few minutes later, he reported. "Canaveral, I´m a little banged up; all systems are go, but I lost a couple insulation tessels. Landing is a neg."

"That´s okay, son; stay in that orbit and the Collaroy will pick you - in the next arn - so."

"Copy, Canaveral, I´ll wait... Wait, an arn?"

"An _hour_ , son, we´re still getting some static."

"Okay, Canaveral, I´ll run a deep system check in the meanwhile."

He covered the mike with a hand and whispered, "An ´arn´? Why does that sounds familiar?" His brow knotted. _´Why does that sounds so... right?´_

* * *

In a myriad of perfect worlds, a sad boy looked at the happines of others. Disappearing when his pain grew too deep to keep watching.

* * *

In a perfect world, a hunter swam deeper and deeper in search of prey. His blood sang in his veins. For far too long he had been looking for food. Finally, a sharp acceleration put him in reach. He extended his beak, and snatched the fish.

Once he had fed, he turned up, looking for the edge of a rock platform.

Looking around, the hunter saw no predator which could make a meal out of him. He jumped into the ice, and lay down to rest for a while, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his body.

He thought for a long while.

Although it was nice to have his own hunting grounds, and he could perceive a group of females nearby, there was something missing.

He laid down there, thinking, for a long while.

He dimly remembered a few featherless creatures. One with a long purple frill, the one who had been a part of his flock for a long time; followed by other with a short mane, brown in color; another brown mane, but longer; and one with two frills, both red.

Where were they?

They had been a part of his flock.

The hunter looked around.

Where were they?

He decided to look for them. Food and mates could wait.

* * *

_**Florida, USA.** _

"Right. So this is Chrichton´s planet, uh?" Ka D´Argo rumbled. "Not very advanced."

The ships had landed in an almost enclosed structure, it looked like a primitive kind of fortress to Aeryn. If there was any remotely decent military corps in this world, it would probably be in a place like this. Strangely, the open yard at the center was covered by a strange green carpet, and a curious romboidal shape had been painted over it. "John said it too. His people´s tech is primitive, they are only beginning to get out their planet. Haven´t even colonized that big moon."

D´Argo remembered it. He had seen it from the bridge. It was a really massive moon. It surely would offer a lot of living space once the humans decided to colonize it. Even with that long streak of red that crossed it from side to side. It looked disturbingly like blood. He shrugged. Planetology wasn´t his strong point.

Close to them, Chiana had picked up a weapon. "Hey, guys, want one of these?" and she threw a long wooden stick at D´Argo. The Luxan caught it one handed, weighted it, and tried a couple of swings with his left hand. "Feels like a woman´s weapon, are there any heavier?"

Chiana checked the box, lifting each stick in turn, wighting them. "Nah, all are more or less the same."

Aeryn looked around, all around the yard hanged what she thought were regimental banners. They showed a stylized horizontal zigzag, with a strange elongated shape around the left upper zig. "Looks a bit like a gladiatorial arena, don´t you think? There´s even seats for the people." She looked around. The silence was grating against her trained senses. "We should explore around. Give me one of those, Chiana." The young Nebari threw one at her, Aeryn caught it in the air and tentatively swung it a couple of times. "Look for some clothes, we should go as native as possible." She examined the weapon. "Hmm... smooth, well cared for. This thing has never seen actual combat. Might be new, or a ritual weapon."

D´Argo looked around, and took his Qualta Blade out, extending the firing mechanism. "I´ll go check on that tunnel." He announced. "Cover me."

Chiana got her pulse pistol out. Aeryn hefted her pulse rifle. Both followed D´Argo, looking around for possible ambushers.

The silence was ennerving them. The only sounds they could hear were from animals, probably flyers.

D´Argo raised a hand and crouched down. He examined something on the floor, and signaled both to get closer.

Chiana wrinkled her nose. "Are those..?"

"Clothes." Answered Aeryn.

D´Argo poked at a white tunic with his Qualta Blade. Picking it up and sniffing the garment, he looked significantly at Aeryn. "It´s dry, but it smells _exactly_ like the bridge did when I came in."

Aeryn knelt besides him. "Look." There was an orange stain on the floor. "Whatever happened to John, it happened here too."

Chiana gulped. "Guys, I don´t know about you, but I´m getting seriously creeped out."

Her companions nodded. "Yeah..." D´Argo agreed. "I don´t think going in disguise will be needed."

A cursory check of the building revealed more empty clothes and orange stains on the floor or furniture.

They were checking the outer perimeter of the structure, when Pilot´s voice interrupted them.

"Officer Sun? Moya has located the place. I´m transmitting the coordinates to your Prowler."

Chiana almost jumped at the sound, but she controlled herself. "Good. Good. Let´s go there. Now, please."

Ka D´Argo nodded. "We´re on our way, Pilot." He paused, looking around. "Wait." He signaled Aeryn and China to take positions. He had heard a scrabbling sound. Somewhere in the tunnels.

He readied his Qualta Blade. He walked silently, slowly passing his weight from one foot to the other. Finally, he located the origin of the sound. It came from a metal garbage container. He lowered his weapon and smiled crookedly.

"Flyers." It was indeed a white flyer, digging in the trash, looking for an easy meal. The animal extended its long wings in a menacing display. D´Argo saw no need to stay, and retreated carefully, not wanting to provoke the creature.

"Let´s go."

* * *

In a perfect world, Harvey walked around town. Having left behind his two companions, he had set to enjoy the illusory paradise John Chrichton´s mind had created, for as long as possible.

He stopped at a store, looking at the display of clothes. He lloked at the wares on sale, and smiled. A little effort of will, and a wallet materialized in his pocket.

A few minutes later, he came out of the store, wearing the most eye-watering of the shirts available. He chuckled to himself. Luckily for the rest of John Chrichton´s perfect little world in Instrumentality, there were no day-glo colors in the store.

"Of course, " he said to himself. "I could simply change my clothes to whatever I want, but _where_ would be the fun in that?"

He walked around main street, breathing deeply from the salty air, enjoying the breeze on his bald scalp. The best par was not having to worry about regulating his temperature. Keeping that delicate balance between his heat-generating scarran genes, and the heat-sensitive nature of Sebaceans had required severe modifications to his body, including the insertion of a device to insert cooling rods directly into his brain.

Being free of that infernal device was glory itself. He passed his fingers over his right temple, marveling once more of the smoothness of his skin.

He felt different from when he was prowling around in John´s memories. He felt like an unwelcome intruder there. And he was. His mission was to scour John´s memories and thoughts, looking for the secret of wormholes.

However, with time he had begun to actually enjoy the Earthling´s memories. They were so different from anything he could remember. There was a certain innocence in them. A... _joy_... even after everything he had come through since arriving at the other end of the universe, Chrichton enjoyed life to a degree Scorpius would never know. And now he, a neural clone of Scorpius himself, had access to all that paradise at the tips of his fingers.

It was overwhelming!

Delightful!

Glorious!

For Harvey, this illusory paradise was the best thing he could even imagine.

This time, he was a part of it, not an observer. Not a spy. Nor a thief.

Finally...

He...

What?

What was the word?

Harvey sat on a bench, leaned back, and put his arms over the back of the bench. He closed his eyes, thinking.

He felt something bump agains his foot. Looking down, he saw a yellow ball, and a four or five years old child walking towards him, followed closely by a woman who could only be his mother. The woman smiled at Harvey, and gently poked the boys back.

"Sorry, sir," the boy said, "Could you gimme back my ball?"

Harvey took the ball, and with a twist of his hand, made it spin on the tip of his index finger. A skill he had learned from watching John´s memories. The boy smiled widely at that simple trick.

"Here you go, kid." Harvey threw the ball back at the boy, who caught the toy and looked at it like it was the most wonderful thing on the world.

"What do we say to the nice gentleman, Corey?" The mother prodded gently at her son.

"Oh! Thank you, sir!"

The woman smiled, and waved goodbye to Harvey.

"Anytime, kid. Anytime." Mother and child kept walking, the kid trying and failing, to spin the ball over his finger.

Harvey sat back, thinking again.

"Oh, yes," he whispered. "It feels like I belong." He smiled. A genuinely pleased smile, not that mocking, crooked smirk Scorpius liked to use to intimidate enemies and allies both.

It was a very human gesture, Harvey thought.

* * *

_**Moya´s Bridge  
Geo-stationary Orbit above Florida USA** _

"Hrumph. This is more boring than waiting in my cell for a nice supper." Rygel mumbled.

Zhaan paid no attention to him. After three arns of vigil, Stark finally had begun to stir. The Banik´s breathing began to increase in depth and speed. "Stark, it´s me, Zhaan. You´re safe in Moya." She caressed his head with infinite care.

Stark´s uncovered eye opened suddenly. "Where´s John? Where´s the other people? I felt them, Zhann. Something horrible happened."

"We know. Aeryn, Chiana and D´Argo are looking into it."

"Where´s John?" a hint of hysteria tinged Stark´s voice. "I felt him go, but not the way it should. He is trapped."

"He…" Zhaan hesitated.

"What? Tell me, Zhaan!" Stark raised his voice for a moment. "Sorry." He shrank on himself, like a whipped slave. He hugged his legs and rocked back and forth. "It was too much." He calmed down, a bit.

Zhaan mixed one of her concoctions, and put the cup in Stark´s hands. "Drink this. It will help to calm you."

Stark took a sip, the bitter flavor hit his tongue, but he had drank far worse tasting things while he was a prisoner of Scorpius. He dranks deeply. "Please, Zhaan. I must know. I need to know what happened. Please."

Zhann took breath. "We don´t know exactly what happened, but I´ll tell you what we know. Remember, Aeryn, D´argo and Chiana are down on Earth, investigating. They are looking for an explanation, and maybe, a way to undo it."

Stark nodded. "I feel no danger at the moment. Whatever it was, it only affected humans, as far as I can tell. And it is over." He snuggled in the blanket Zhaan had put over him. He shook his head. "Their souls... are trapped." Stark shuddered, and wrapped hilself on the blancket a bit more tightly.

Rygel interrupted them. "The others are now flying to Chrichton´s base. So we better pay attention to them."

"Thanks, Rygel."

* * *

In a myriad of perfect worlds , an angry girl watched as a sad boy spied at the happiness of others; just looking, like a gott-damned masochistic voyeur.

 _Never_ daring to grab for himself whatever happiness he could.

Somewhow, whenever the boy fled from a perfect world to another, and she following after him again and again.

Sometimes, she found him, sometimes she didn´t; but she always knew where to go, when he was gone, and where he would end up next.

He always disappeared before she could reach him, but it was only a matter of time.

She would catch him.

* * *

_**Author Notes** _

The Collaroy is the shuttle that transported the Farscape 1 module to high orbit. It´s only seen during the Earth part of the Premiere episode. According to the Farscape Wiki, it was named after a beach in Sidney, Australia.

* * *

I´m not much of a sports fan at all. All info about the Miami Merlins and their stadium was taken from Wikipedia.


	6. Chapter 6

_**It Was (Not) Just a Dream** _

* * *

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I'm not sure, mom…" the dark haired girl answered, while playing with her penguin keychain. "I mean, everything is going great. You and dad are closer than I ever saw you. He even left his stuff from work back at home. The trip is great, and all, but…"

The older woman rested her hand on the rail, the sea breeze played with her long black hair. "It's a boy?" It wasn't exactly a question.

The girl furrowed her brow. "Yes." She paused, "I mean, no." She exhaled and shook her head, settling on looking at the horizon. "I don't really know."

"You can tell me, I'm your mother."

"I know, it's just… weird. I have been dreaming of a boy. He looks so… so sad."

"Where did you meet him? At school? At the park?"

"That's the weird part, mom. I haven't met him." She spread her arms expressively. "I just feel like I know him from somewhere, like I owe him more than I could ever repay, like I failed him in some awful way even; but I can't even remember his name. Each night I dream of him. And it breaks my heart seeing the look in his eyes."

"It's just a dream, dear." The woman hugged her daughter for a moment, and knowing she disliked to be hugged for too long, released her after a few seconds. "Don't let it bring you down. When your father told me we could finally go and tour Europe as he had promised me, I was so happy. But seeing you sad just because you're having bad dreams…"

The girl rested her elbows on the rail of the ship. "They are not bad… not really. Just sad. If you could see him… he looks so broken. Like he won't _ever_ smile again. And I just know he has a pretty smile. So friendly and warm."

"I guess the dreams will stop sooner or later, honey." Her mother passed an arm over her shoulders, almost hugging her.

"I'm not sure I want that." The girl closed her eyes, bowing her head.

"Have you tried to speak to him? In your dreams I mean?" The woman squeezed her daughter's hand. "Maybe if you can cheer him up in your dreams…"

"I've tried, but he just disappears when I get close to him." Frustrated, she tightened her grip on the rail, until her knuckles were almost white.

"Maybe you don't have to try harder, just look into his eyes and let him take the first step. Who knows? Maybe he's taking this same trip and you just don't remember seeing him aboard."

A long moment of silence followed, while she pondered about that. "Maybe." She looked at the horizon, where the sun was almost touching the sea, bathing the world with a beautiful fire.

"Now, if you find him on board, I'd like to meet this oh-so-mysterious boy who has caught your heart without even meeting you."

"Mom!" She was half scandalized and half eager at the very idea.

"And there it is! My beautiful daughter! Don't worry, dear. I was just the same at your age. I even wrote a couple of poems for a boy I didn't even had the chance to meet. Maybe I'll tell you that story when you're a little older."

The girl nodded, and kept silent. She didn't want to share the rest. There was more than just a recurrent dream.

There was another, a nightmare where she was older, close to thirty years old, and she and the sad boy were caught in the middle of a war. She was shot, and as she died, she tried to give the boy some hope so he would be willing to fight and save his life; but his spirit had been so crushed that he was like a puppet without strings.

She tried to help him find strength the only way her adult persona knew how. And she made him a promise she knew wouldn't be able to keep. Just to give him something to live for.

If there was any way, on heaven or earth, in hell or paradise, to keep her promise, she would.

But she had to find him first.

* * *

"C'mon, Uncle John! It's about to start!"

John let himself be dragged to the living room couch by his nephew.

"Chill down, Bobby. I'm sure there will be a couple of ads before the cartoon."

The child was really excited to watch a new episode of his favorite series. "So, as I was up on space a couple of weeks ago, and I don't know a thing about this show, how about you tell your favorite uncle what's it about."

"Space travel! Just like you and gramps do! But with more adventures and exploring planets!"

"I just hope it's better researched than _Silverhawks_ …" John mumbled. That one had been a source of many jokes between him and his father.

"Shh! It's about to begin!"

A rousing music played, while images of a strange ship, shaped like a mix of a waterdrop and some marine crustacean crossed the screen. Immediately, John sat straighter on his seat, feeling the hair on his arms stand on end.

There was something very familiar about that ship. And on the strange figure that appeared overimposed on the ship as it went away from the camera, a long, wrinkled face, with prominent yellow eyes, and a helmet-like crest over the ridged brow.

Then, a powerfully muscled figure jumped downwards from the top of the screen, while the camera spun around him, showing glimpses of the hands, arms, and face of the figure, too fast for him to really see the face.

The camera turned around, focusing on a lithe figure, blue in color, standing atop a mountain; extending her arms to the sky, her robe flapping in the wind. It was a woman, he could see no hair on her head, but the shape of her hips was evident. As the camera flew around her, a second figure was revealed, standing back to back with the blue woman. It was a thin, serious looking man, with an iron half-mask covering the right side of his face. The image centered into his left eye, closing up on it, until all the screen showed was the reflection of the surrounding mountain. Somehow, a group of spectral images appeared for a moment. The eye blinked, and the ghosts disappeared.

The camera zoomed down, travelling mountain down at breakneck speed, following a small figure, sitting on an elaborate floating chair, while the music reached a crescendo. The diminutive figure seemed to laugh, as he held some kind of scepter on his hands, and flailed left and right with it, throwing bolts of energy. A gray blur passed in front of the figure, and the camera followed it. A couple of second later, the blur revealed itself as an acrobatic young woman with chalk white skin and a contagious smile. She held a strangely designed gun in each hand, and shot once with each weapon.

The camera went back, giving a panoramic view of the group, converging around the first figure, who held his sword up high.

A bolt of lightning impacted against the bifurcated tip of the sword, the light finally revealing the central figure, a warrior dressed in red, with a strange beak instead of a nose; long tentacles jutted from his chin and the back of his head.

The warrior smiled at the camera, a smile full of determination and mirth.

The image froze, and the title of the show appeared at the bottom of the screen:

" _Ka D'argo and the Galaxy Lords  
In the Uncharted Territories_."

John Chrichton felt like the ground had split under him.

"It can't be…" he whispered, passing a hand over his suddenly dry mouth. "It can't be!"

Somehow, he realized he _knew_ those cartoon characters.

How? HOW?

He ran out the house, leaving behind a bewildered Bobby. "Uncle John? Where are you going?"

John jumped into his car, and drove off. He needed to think, and there was only one place in the world he felt was good enough for it.

* * *

Harvey's eyes snapped open. A jarring feeling had intruded into his happy musings.

"Oh, _c'mon_ , John!" angry and annoyed, he shook his head, "So soon? I had counted on at least two days more!"

He stood up and flagged a passing taxi.

"Where to, mac?" the driver asked, as soon as Harvey occupied the back seat.

* * *

_**Moya's Bridge  
Geo-stationary Orbit above Florida USA** _

"Yeah, sure, Stark. I think you have finally snapped. That mask must be cutting off the blood flow to your brain. Small as it is."

"I believe him, Rygel."

"Hah! Of course you do. I do not." Rygel set his lower jaw in a belligerent gesture. He produced a thin wafer from somewhere and began to munch on what Chrichton called 'cookies'. "A soul collector! Preposterous! And you say that Chrichton's is somewhere down there! Pfah! He got turned into goo. And he is right there!" Rygel pointed at the box.

Stark narrowed his eye. His face set on a scowl. "Believe whatever you want. I know what I'm talking about."

A crackle interrupted the argument. "Pilot? We're in."

Everybody's attention turned immediately to the comm.

Rygel spoke into his own comm. "Rygel here. Is that the right place?"

Chiana spoke. "We think so. Although I think there were some changes since Chrichton was last here."

"Like what? They repotted the plants?"

"No. It is the same as Chrichton described, but it's not IASA. I gues they changed the name or something. It says NASA. But the heraldic is more or less the same Chrichton said."

"I see. Anybody there?"

"Nope. Just empty clothes and orange goo." From the tone of her voice, it was clear Chiana was trying to be flippant about it. And it was just as clear that she was deeply disturbed by the place. "The place looks like everybody just went out at the same time. At least there's no fire. We saw several buildings burning in the nearby city. And there's smoke all over there."

* * *

The hunter turned around, looking for his flock. They were nowhere around, so he decided to look a little further.

He knew they were somewhere near.

He could almost feel them.

* * *

"You took your sweet own time to get here, John. I've been waiting for you for almost an hour. It was nice to watch the crew setting up the next shuttle launch; but after a while, it gets boring." The man wheezed. His head was down, but his eyes looked directly at John's. There was no hint of any fear in the man, although John was a bit taller and more muscular. This guy looked like the _After_ in a diet plan advertisement. And his eyes were strangely familiar. Unblinking, unwavering. Like their owner could get at the deepest secrets with just a look.

"Who the f… WHO THE HELL are you?" John looked angry and disoriented at the same time.

The thin man chuckled. "Don't you mean 'Who the _Frell_ are you?', John?"

Chrichton's jaw hung open. Stunned into silence. How did this strange guy in the most hideously clashing Hawaiian shit, bermudas, and sandals knew the word he had almost said?

"Sit, we have to talk for a while. You can call me Harvey."

"…Harvey…" That was the name on the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, yes, yes. I know. I must seem awfully familiar to you, and your brain is short-circuiting trying to place me in some old memory. You won't find me there. I just don't belong to any place you have known."

"Then where in the world…" John's eyes opened even more.

" _Nowhere_ in the world, John. That's where we met." He pointed directly upwards, and shrugged . Fnally, he averted his eyes. "Well, not exactly. You met another guy. Dressed in black leather armor."

John stumbled back onto his car, he sat heavily on the hood, his eyes looking in the distance. "…Scorpius…"

"The very same, John. Let me guess, your little _perfect_ world is showing cracks. Am I right?"

John passed a hand over his forehead. The dread was clear on his eyes and in his voice. "Ho… how do … you..?"

Harvey sat next to him. "Know? Because I do not belong here." He opened his arms expansively. "It's a nice place, I admit it. But it's not real. I know it. I am not real either."

John looked at him as if the man had sprouted the largest set of antlers in the world. Harvey sighed.

"All you see around you, except for myself, is an illusion, a _glamour_ , if you want to call it that way. Nothing but a false paradise designed to keep you trapped. It is not the perfect world. It is the perfect _jail_."

"Why? What did I do?"

"It's not about you, it's not personal. You were just caught in the aftermath. And I was caught with you."

Chrichton's brow furrowed.

"You are beginning to remember, aren't you, John?"

Before Harvey could say anything else, a fist impacted against his jaw, sending him to the ground. "YES! I REMEMBER NOW! HOW DID _YOU_ DO THIS?"

Harvey moved his jaw side to side. "I am not your enemy in this." He raised a conciliatory hand. "Actually, I was enjoying your little world. I wouldn't be here if you didn't want me here. Your own subconscious mind must have been the catalyst for my existence here. Otherwise, I wouldn't even be Jiminy Cricket's voice in your head, you would have been free of me. Forever and ever."

"Okay, okay." Chrichton began to pace around the car. "So this means that… that it was that weird girl who brought me here, right? The one with blue hair and red eyes." He sat on the hood again.

"Yes." Harvey picked himself up, and sat on the hood too, not too close to Chrichton.

"So, what's next?"

Harvey looked sideways at Chrichton. "We get out, of course."

"Yeah, sure. I just click the heels of my red shoes three time and say ' _There's no place like home.'_ three times."

"Of course not, don´t be absurd. I know for a fact you don't have any red shoes. Unless you count those Tasmanian Devil running shoes you had back in elementary school."

"Leave my memories ALONE, Harvey." Chrichton's voice rumbled dangerously.

Harvey waved a dismissive hand. "That's what I was made for, I can´t really help it. Anyway, I cannot watch them anymore, John. For as long as you and me are trapped here, we are separate entities."

John rubbed his knuckles. "Interesting point you are making, Harvey. Quite an interesting point indeed, Harvey. Shall we put that to the test, Harvey?" Chrichton arched his right eyebrow.

"There are more important matters to attend, I'd say." He rubbed his jaw again. "And I am willing to accept you have made a very valid point."

Chrichton passed his hands through his hair and shook his head ruefully. "I'm a mess… I have all I ever wanted here, and I wanna get back to Moya with the guys, and to the Uncharted Territories, and to all that… dren that's there."

"That's being human. Realizing that this is a false paradise gives one a new perspective, doesn't it? Even if you decide to stay here, the... taint... is already there."

"Yeaup…" Chrichton slapped his hands on his tighs. "Now, what do I hafta do to get out of here, Mr. Wizard?"

"I have a couple ideas." Harvey looked at the horizon. "How about we get something to eat and we discuss them?"

"Pizza?"

"I'm in the mood for a hamburguer."

"Hamburguers it is. Let's go."

* * *

_**Author Notes** _

Well… It seems this is one of those times where characters take control of the story. The way things are going, I feel the original direction I had thought will be drastically changed.

Meaning that, the classic pairing in Evangelion will be no more. I have already changed the pairings in the story summary. And I think it will be better for both characters.

* * *

Of course, that little cartoon show intro John and his nephew were watching was shamelessly ripped from the _Thundercats_ intro. Has there ever been any other intro with such dynamism?  
Personally, _Thundercats_ is the standard I measure other intros against.

 _Silverhawks_ on the other hand, had a good intro, but frankly, the level of research on how space and science works… the less it's said about it, the better (except for the epilogues, those were actually researched!). I think that for John and Jack Chrichton it would have been especially cringeworthy.

* * *

The landing team is referring to a very logical consequence of Third Impact. Without people in control, moving vehicles are going to crash everywhere. And unattended fires will get out of control sooner than later. Not like in a zombie apocalypse, where the disease spreads over a relatively longer period. Sure, there will be both accidents and fires, but not so many.


	7. Chapter 7

_**I Do(n't) Wanna Go** _

* * *

_**Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
** _ _**Moya's Bridge** _

"No."

"Have you gone completely fahrbot? There is no reason for us to stay in this ridiculous planet! I say we should close the hatches and leave as soon as the others come back." The deposed Hynerian Dominar moved his hover throne until his face was eyebrows to eyebrow with the mentally disturbed Banik.

"No! John is lost but will find his way back! He always does!" Unlike his usually skittish behavior, this time Stark wasn't willing to yield a single henta.

"Crichton is dead! That strange girl turned him into orange goo! He is in that box over there! Along with whatever dirt he picked up while Aeryn was moping him up!" Rygel pointed one of his stubby little fingers towards the storage locker in question. "I saw it happen with my own two eyes! He's not coming back, get that in that hard head of yours! We should go as soon as the others come back to Moya. This place is starting to creep me out."

Stark raised his voice too. "I know what you saw! I felt it as it happened! Several _million_ _ **TIMES!**_ _ALL AT_ _ **ONCE!**_ " He was starting to get really agitated, patting his own chest repeatedly to emphasize his point. "That in the box is just matter, it doesn't matter! What matters is no matter at all! No matter matters! Matter doesn't matter! Matter, no matter! No matter matters!" He kept on tapping his chest repeatedly to emphasize his point.

The Banik looked at their blue-skinned companion, "John will come back, Zhaan." He seemed to relax a bit. "He needs time to find his way. We _must_ wait."

Pilot spoke before Zhaan could answer. "Moya informs me there are several maintenance routines she would really like to enact. She has not detected any ships in our wake. Most probably we lost them a few starbursts ago. So we should be fairly safe while the DRDs work."

"Pilot. How long would that require? How important is it?" The Delvian priestess asked, hoping to get some peace.

"Moya says the most basic maintenance would take about 30 arns. Three solar days for a deeper check. About thirty solar days for the best maintenance she can do by herself outside of a drydock." Before Rygel or Stark could add anything, Pilot continued, his image bobbing up and down the holo-shell as his four arms manipulated the controls at his station, "I must stress that Moya is in urgent need of a deep check. We have been running almost non-stop for a long time. She needs the rest, and frankly, so do we."

Zhaan exhaled a controlled breath. She looked at Stark first, who nodded; and then at Rygel, who simply snorted and turned his head away imperiously. "Very well, Pilot. Patch me through with Aeryn and D'Argo. This is not a decision to take lightly."

Stark exhaled a lungful of air, and sat on the floor, next to the chains he had been recently wrapped in. He closed his eye and began to hum a strange melody. It sounded like one of those annoying non-sensical songs Crichton liked to sing whenever he was feeling really happy or really stressed. At least it wasn't that awful noise he called The Flight of the Valkiries, she thought, only to find herself remembering it. She rubbed her neck tiredly. "Great… now I have the tune bouncing inside my head. And I have no idea of where in Earth could be Jupiter and Mars, or why spring would be different there…"

* * *

_**Instrumentality  
Tokyo-3** _

"If I cant have all of you, I don't want any of you." She said. Her words detonated a series of emotions in him.

In a perfect duplicate of Misato Katsuragi's apartment, an angry boy argued with an angry gril. He was in no mood for another round of recriminations, and he wasn't even sure the girl was actually real.

Finally, he had no place to run to.

He was forced to confront his own emotions, vague and confusing as they were.

Rejection, longing, anger, confusion, fear, grief, pain, desire, hope.

All spilled like water from a broken dam, a violent flood that could only have a result.

He begged for help, for some attention. He was at the end of the rope, and a long fall in the abyss waited for him to lose his grip.

"No." she said.

He trembled. His head down, his eyes closed and his voice broken and raw in desperation.

Finally, after a long series of traumas, he broke.

He grabbed the girl by the neck, and tightened his fingers around it.

* * *

_**Instrumentality  
Fast Food Restaurant Near Cape Canaveral** _

"So, what the hell do I need to do to get out of this place?" Crichton asked his colorfully dressed companion.

While Harvey collected his thoughts to answer, a kid in the next booth stood up on his seat, grinned at Crichton and said, "You get up and go thru that door, mister." Helpfully, the kid pointed at the door of the fast-food joint Crichton and Harvey had gone to.

"Very good, little one, now sit down and eat your burger." Harvey smiled at the boy, tilting his cup in a complicit salute. The kid obeyed, with a cheeky grin on his face.

Meanwhile, Crichton had rolled his eyes with annoyance. He waited until Harvey finished draining the last gulps of his jumbo-sized drink. "Done?", he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Done." Harvey stood up, collected their trash, and deposited in the garbage bin. As they walked out, he turned to the boy, who was watching them intently; pointed at the door, and made a big show of opening it and pushing Crichton out. Once outside, he resumed his serious demeanor. "Well, John; I have been thinking on that, and I can see two ways out of this lotus machine."

"Go on."

Harvey sighed, and discreetly put a couple of extra feet of distance between him and Crichton. "The first is the easiest to implement. Though I am not sure of the result."

"Go on. I have the feelin' I am not going to like it."

"Right on the first try. No, I don't think you will like it. You'd have to die. Either of old age or by violence."

Crichton arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure. I die here and wake up back in Moya. Riiight. I already watched that movie, thank you very much. I don't want to Goundhog Day my life for who knows how long."

"True, although knowing that this place is an illusion _should_ snap you back in the real world. But maybe your deep desires would merely bring you back here, maybe even without knowledge of the real nature of this place; and most probably, without me to help you."

Crichton balanced his hands, palms up, weighting the results. "Uuuhh… Maybe that would be worth it."

Harvey snorted. "Maybe. We would be free of each other, though non-existence would be a high price for me to pay. No. I don't think we should try that one."

"Okay, what about the other?"

"I think it has the best chances of success, but also the highest difficulty. I am not sure you can muster that kind of will. Simply put, you have to do better than any Buddhist monk and renounce this world."

Thoroughly annoyed, Crichton looked at Harvey sideways. "What about you?"

Harvey shrugged, "I will either go back to be your personal conscience at the back of your mind, or I will achieve Nirvana and cease to exist. Personally, I'd prefer the former option, I still have not fulfilled my mission."

"…Great… I'd like to buy a few vowels then."

In all the Uncharted Territories, Harvey the Neural Clone was the only being who could have understood the reference. And what Crichton had meant by using it.

* * *

**Instrumentality  
Cruiser Ship, Somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea.**

A young girl looked at the sea, standing on the forward deck of the ship. Her thoughts spinning around the boy she saw in her dreams. She knew she had promised something to him, but couldn't remember what it was. The only thing she could remember was that it was really important.

Her eyes locked on the North Star, its twinkling light seemed to wink at her, with the promise of a single fulfilled wish. She sighed, more than anything else, she wanted to be with that unknown boy.

A moment later, the world disappeared.

* * *

_**Instrumentality  
South Pole** _

The hunter was tired, he had swam and waddled a long distance since he had decided to look for the rest of his rookery. He stood on the compacted ice for a few minutes, until he decided it would be a good time to sleep. He set his head down, closed his eyes and fell asleep. His last thought was to go to his companions.

A moment later, the world disappeared.

* * *

_**Cape Canaveral, Florida, USA  
** _ _**NASA HQ** _

Chiana sat on one of those rolling chairs (one free of orange stains, of course), and entertained herself by spinning herself slowly, while she looked at Ka D'Argo and Aeryn Sun argue about what to do next.

"Maybe we should go to wherever that giant girl is, and try to communicate with her. And if she's not forthcoming, we might have to try and force her to tell us how to recover Crichton or to do it herself." D'Argo was busy polishing his Qualta Blade, and checking it would be functional. More as a way to pass the time than any real need to check it worked.

Aeryn Sun kept silent for a few microts, weighting D'Argo's suggestion. "Not yet. I'd prefer to leave that for last. At her size, I don't know if we can communicate with her, or harm her."

Chiana stopped her spinning, "Yeah, I don't want to get close to her. She could swat us from existence as if we were nothing, so if you wanna go there, leave me up in Moya. Or down here. Even that would be preferable to being slapped off the face of the universe by a hand that can cause eclipses by itself."

Both her friends looked at her. It was D'Argo who spoke first. "Good point." He shrugged. "So, what do we do in the meanwhile?"

"I don't know, D'Argo." Aeryn admitted.

"Well," Chiana tilted her head. "I don't know about you two, but I am tired, hungry and creeped out. I vote we eat something, then go back to the ships, and then rest."

"I agree with Chiana, I want to get Crichton back too, but we won't be able to even find what happened to him if we get ourselves too tired." After a long pause, Aeryn nodded. Softly, D'Argo added, "I'll take the first turn. Chiana, you take the second."

"But…"

"You take the second turn. Aeryn need to rest more than you or me."

"Yeah, I agree, it's just that we should get something to eat first. I ate all the crackers I got from the machine." She brushed off the last crumbs that had fallen on her clothes.

D'Argo groaned.

* * *

_**Japan  
Tokyo-3 Bay** _

Nine white monsters foated immobile above the water, each and everyone of them had a strange weapon stuck into their bodies, more or less in the place a human being would have the heart. Silently, they circled around a humanoid monstruosity, also impaled through by a red two pronged weapon.

An eerie silence reigned supreme, broken only by the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. The water was tinged an orange reddish color. A giant naked body kneeling in the deepest water of the bay looked blindly ahead, a strange smile parted her lips, while her crimson eyes looked blindly ahead. A red sphere floated between her hands, holding the souls of all living creatures in the world. Each and everyone of them lost in their own version of paradise.

Not a single creature stirred in the land or the air or the sea.

The androgynous features of the giantess changed subtly, her bluish-silvery hair darkened into a shade of blue that seemed almost like the sky.

At a lonely train station, several kilometers away, a teenage girl stood at a street cross. She wore a school uniform consisting of a white blouse and a blue skirt. Black shoes and white socks completed her attire.

She looked wistfully at a group of payphones. She stood there, immobile, for a long time, as if she was waiting for somebody to arrive and use the phones.

* * *

_**Instrumentality  
John Crichton's House, Near Cape Canaveral.  
** _

"Okay, Harvey. I'm laying comfortably, my eyes are closed. Now what?"

The neural clone occupied a lawn chair, next to the prone John Crichton. He breathed deeply before speaking. "Focus on your memories, John. Begin with Moya. Remember your arrival."

"Okay." Crichton's brow furrowed in concentration. He nodded, still with his eyes closed. "Got it."

"Now, remember Officer Sun." A little while later, Crichton nodded again.

The pair went down the list of Moya's passengers. Associating each one with both memories and emotions.

John spoke little. Mostly he nodded at Harvey to continue whenever he felt he had remembered enough of each of his friends.

The astronaut relaxed more and more with each memory. He felt as if he could reach t them and touch them. He smiled at the emotions he felt.

A moment later, the world disappeared.

* * *

_**Instrumentality** _

A long talk with an avatar of Rei Ayanami finally calmed down Shinji's anger. He took the biggest decision of his life.

The biggest decision anybody had taken in the long and twisted history of Mankind.

He chose.

To live.

He chose.

To leave.

He would take his chances back in the real world.

A moment later, Instrumentality as SEELE had planned to be, disappeared.

* * *

_**Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
** _ _**Moya's Bridge** _

"Something is happening. Moya is sensing a wave of what she describes as emotion." Pilot reported through the comms.

"Now what?" asked Rygel, turning his throne around to look through the observation windows.

Zhaan fell to her knees, hugging herself, while Stark wept freely.

"I don't know what it is, but it comes from the other side of the planet!" Pilot reported.

"Pilot! Get us out of here! Starburst now!" Rygel ordered.

"We can't! Moya wants to stay! She says it's something pure. Something good!"

At the other side of the world, nine white monsters floated around a purple abomination. A being created to supplant God.

The purple monster ripped out the weapon that pierced its body, and with that simple move, undid decades of planning.

Instrumentality was not eternal anymore.

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Bay** _

Shinji Ikari emerged from the Sea of Souls. He felt at peace, but only relative to the maelstrom he had been subjected to the previous days.

He waded to dry land, leaving behind the monstruous head of Lilith, still showing the face of Rei Ayanami.

He looked around at the devastation that surrounded him, wondering if in the end, returning to the real world had been worth the price he would have to pay. He watched for long seconds at the nine white statues half buried in the bay.

He opened his left hand, and realized that, even after everything that had happened in that strange realm beyond life and death and rebirth, he still held Misato's silver cross.

He would never forget her. For all her flaws, and for all his own flaws, she had loved him, and he had loved her. He wasn't sure of what kind of love it was, or even if it was the same for both, but the purple haired woman would forever live in his heart. He would remember her as a friend, as a sister, as an officer, as a woman. And who knows what else.

He wept hot tears at her memory, still clutching that simple silver cross.

Finally, he hung the cross from a simple nail, from a simple wooden post still standing on the beach. He didn't need to put her name or any dates on it. He knew for whom that simple memorial was. That was enough. Somehow, it made a very intimate connection.

Tired, Shinji lay down on the sand, looking at the darkening sky.

He grimaced when he saw the full moon, stained by a long red streak. The stain was the color of freshly spilled blood. He didn't know how it had come to be, and decided he didn't want to know. He closed his eyes, and in a moment, he fell asleep.

He hadn't rested in a long time. Not really. These last days before he had killed the world his sleep had been haunted by nightmares.

Tonight, there were no dreams. Good nor bad.

And Shinji Ikari finally rested.

* * *

_**Between Instrumentality and Reality** _

John Crichton floated in an orange nothingness. He could feel Harvey's presence close by. He realized he was in between realms, and focused his will on the need to return to reality.

To a universe that was not perfect in any way

But was perfect in all the ways that really mattered.

* * *

Misato Katsuragi floated in an orange nothingness. She could feel the boy she had been dreaming about, he was somewhere, close. Very close.

She focused on her need to see him in the flesh.

To fulfill her promise to him, whatever it had been.

* * *

Pen Pen floated in an orange sea. He could feel the missing members of his rookery.

He swam faster. He needed to see them. To know they were well.

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Bay** _

Shinji Ikari awoke from his sleep. He turned around, and to his mild surprise, saw he had company.

Somehow, during that silent night, the shade of Asuka Langley Soryu had materialized next to him.

For some reason, that ghost wore an eyepatch and its right arm was wrapped in bandages from hand to shoulder. Seeing her uncovered, unmoving, dull eye convinced him it was merely a trick of his own mind. The real Asuka wouln't stay there, immobile, silent. Indifferent to everything. No. She would yell. She would scream. She would slap him. Curse him. She would do _something_.

He straddled its body. He wouldn't suffer another diatribe from a figment of his imagination. This was his world now. He put his hands on the throat, and squeezed. Sobbing as he did so.

* * *

John Crichton broke the surface of the orange sea, wiped the orange tinted water off his face, and breathed deeply. In front of him, he saw a lonely beach. He had no idea of where he was or how he had arrived there. But there was somebody on the beach.

"Wait… what is goi…" he interrupted himself when he realized there were two people on the beach, and one of them seemed to be strangling the other! He ran out of the water, and towards the two figures. He didn't know what was happening there, but he wouldn't be made a witness to murder!

* * *

Nothing else existed for Shinji. Only the unwelcome imitation of the girl who had been… what? He wasn't sure of exactly what Asuka Langley Soryu had been for him anymore. Love? Friend? Rival? Enemy?

It didn't matter, this was not her. This was just a ghost. He squeezed harder, putting all his weight to the task.

It simply looked up, not even seeing him.

* * *

He didn't notice when she had lifted her hand. Slowly, it came up from under him. Until she could cup his cheek with the palm of her bandaged hand.

The unexpected contact broke Shinji's resolve.

He slowly relaxed his grip on her throat. Hot tears came unbidden to his eyes, falling on Asuka's face.

* * *

Her eye focused.

Shinji was above her. Somehow they had returned. She knew they were back in the world. There was a dull pain in her left eye and on her right arm. She remembered the wounds those gott-damned EVA series monsters had done to her with their weapons.

She remembered being eaten alive.

* * *

"I feel sick." She said.

* * *

Before Shinji could even think about what she had said, he felt something very heavy impacting his body. He rolled on the sand, completely disoriented. He felt two big hands grabbing his wrists from behind, immobilizing him. A rough voice spoke to him, he could recognize some words, but his English had never been too god.

* * *

John Crichton held the skinny teenager down under him to keep the boy from attacking or fleeing. He didn't know what had happened, but he would be damned if he allowed this pocket-sized murderer to get him by surprise.

A voice brought him back from his thoughts.

"John? The girl seems to be more or less fine. She seems to be traumatized, but physically, she will recover."

"Thanks, Harvey. I'll tie up this little maniac and…" He turned around, to find the most unexpected sight of all.

Harvey carrying the semi-unconscious girl.

"What the frell..?"


	8. Chapter 8

_**(Clear) Communication Problems** _

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins,  
Beach** _

Once the boy was securely tied, John Crichton sat heavily back on the sand. He wiped his forehead with a hand, and looked to his constant companion. "Yo! Harvey! Everything okay?"

The newly born adult _human_ male turned towards Crichton, his fingers firmly set against the jaw of the redhead girl. He raised a finger, asking for a moment. Once satisfied, he answered. "As far as I can tell, for the moment at least, yes. The girl is unconscious, but doesn't seem to have suffered any permanent damage, John; her pulse is strong and her breathing is regular. If human teenagers are close to their sebacean counterparts, she should awake in about an arn, two at the most, I think. Maybe with some bruising on her neck, but nothing major."

"You're the expert, Harvey. If there is something ol'Scorpy is an expert at, is damage and how to deal it."

Harvey grimaced. "I will thank you not to remind me of that. I do have the knowledge _and the memories_ , but I myself have never put it to the deed. Our early disagreements apart, of course. And those were merely… um… illusory. I apologize for that. Back then I was following my programming, and had no idea I would defy it. For some reason, the very thought of applying that knowledge now… disgusts me."

Somewhat surprised, Crichton shrugged, not willing to concede the point. He looked around, "Now, what I want to know is who the frell went completely Planet of the Apes; Mazinger Z, and Terminator at the same time, and added the Joker to the mix." He pointed a thumb at the semiburied white colossi around the bay. "And how to contact the others in Moya. Believe me, I wouldn't want to stay here, doesn't look like prime quality neighbourhood. Especially with that giant half head." The face was eerily reminiscent of the strange naked girl who had appeared at Moya's bridge, but the features were quite androgynous. Not to say anything about that crazy look in the eyes of the giant… androgynous entity…

"Hopefully, the answers will be revealed by our two friends, once they awake." Harvey sat next to Crichton, wiping his hands on his awfully noisome Hawaiian shirt. "In the meanwhile, I think we should find some place to camp, and some food too." He smacked his lips, "These may not be ideal conditions, but I am curious to see what this body is capable of, I am not completely sure, but I think I got a fully human body, not completely sebacean as I would have expected." He paused thoughfully, "Pizza and margaritas for breakfast didn't turn out as good as I hoped. But not having to wear that armor is very… liberating. And being free of my Scarran heritage…"

"I did told you not to try that combo." Crichton smirked, "By the way, how come you're out of my head? Not that I am complaining." Idly, the human astronaut used a stick to draw some lines on the sand.

Harvey sat back, and looked into the sea, thinking. "I don't know, John. I don't know. I have a theory, but unless I can devise an experiment to test it, I am not inclined to speculate."

John raised the stick "Let's leave the philosophical questions for later. We have some things to do before that. Watch or forage?"

"Both options would be acceptable. You choose. I still retain most of your camping knowledge."

"Very well… I still don't trust you that much. I'll stay and keep an eye on the kids. There's a lot of planks around here. I'll make a fire while you return."

"Won't be long, John. Try not to cause some catastrophe in my absence."

"Don't start any without me." Crichton punched Harvey's left arm.

The former neural clone rubbed the place. "At least we know I am mostly human now. That hurt more than I would think for a fully-blooded sebacean. I'll return in half an arn."

"Vaya con Dios." Crichton began to gather some planks.

Two blue eyes watched the exchange with curiosity.

* * *

_**Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
** _ _**Moya's Bridge** _

"Well? Did you find anything useful down there?" Rygel floated around Ka D'Argo and Chiana, carefully avoiding Aeryn, as the trio walked out the lander ship.

"No." D'Argo answered gruffly, and stepped around the diminutive and annoying Hynerian, pushing a cargo platform obtained on a warehouse down planet.

"Oh, C'mon, D!" Chiana bounced behind him, tilting her head as was her custom. "Show him! We got enough food for a couple of months at least! And that's only this trip!"

Aeryn rolled her eyes, a gesture she had learned from Crichton. Realizing what she had done only served to push her a little bit more towards lashing out.

Before she could explode, Zhaan pulled her delicately aside, letting the others go. "Stark insists John is still around." She said without any preamble. The blue priestess guided the sebacean former soldier towards a side hall.

Tiredly, Aeryn shook her head. "We saw him explode into orange goo, Zhaan. Maybe I'm deluding myself into thinking he could return from that."

"You know what Stark is, don't you? What he does. He guides the dead to the other side. Whatever happened when that naked girl touched John, it overwhelmed Stark almost to madness."

"Stark is not the most stable of us. And that is saying something." Aeryn leaned onto one of Moya's walls and closed her eyes. "We couldn't find a single living person in the whole city. Only animals and lots of stains on floors and furniture. It's like the site of a slaughter, but without blood or bodies, just orange stains. I have seen many corpses in my life, Zhaan; and never thought the absence of them could be so disturbing. I'm gonna have nightmares for a long time."

The Delvian priestess nodded. She pulled Aeryn by the arm, back towards the chambers she and John shared. "You are about to drop. If you continue like this, you will burn out. I have prepared an infusion. You need to rest."

"I don't want to…" she lost her train of thought. She shook her head, under Zhaan's disapproving eyes.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked softly.

Aeryn rubbed her eyes. "About 32 arns…" she waved Zhaan's hand away. "I have stayed awake longer in battle."

"Yes, with adrenaline in your blood. Please, Aeryn." She pleaded. "Pilot has Moya in repair mode. We are not moving for a while. Rest, if there are news, I'll get you the antidote at once."

Aeryn looked at her companion's eyes, seeing her sincerity. For a good while, the blue female had been the closest the Moya group had had to a medical expert. And she was very good at that job.

Especially keeping in mind they were all from different species. "Very well, I'm too tired to fight anyway."

"I can prepare you a stronger dose, at least for this time, you wouldn't dream at all. If you want me to. Right now, you'd only get to rest more or less normally. At least your body would."

"I am very tempted, but no. I worry my reflexes would be dulled if I go for the stronger dose."

"Very good. Now, drink this." She put a container on the hands. "and get comfortable. It will hit you quickly."

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins,  
Beach** _

Misato Katsuragi broke the surface of the water, and filled her lungs with the sweet air of the surface. She looked around, and saw the ruins around her. "What happened here? It looks like a war zone!"

"Okay," she mused to herself. "Misato, you wanted to get somewhere. Now, get your butt to the beach before some weird monster eats you. Who can tell what kind of creature lives in orange water?"

When she arrived to the beach, she dropped to her knees and hands, tired. There were no signs of life anywhere.

Everything was still and silent. Except for the soft whisper of the wind and the crashing of the waves. It felt as the silence of a grave.

Suddenly, she noticed some movement at her right, it was as if somebody dragged their feet on the sand. Silently, she stood up, grabbing a jagged stone as she did.

"Wark!" a penguin! A penguin waddled towards her, waving its flippers as if in greeting. Misato raised an eyebrow.

"Hi… are you lost?" she put her hands on her knees and talked to the bird as if it was a child. She noticed the strange backpack on the bird, this was not a wild animal, at a minimum, it was used to being close to humans, though she had never heard of a penguin as a pet. She read the buckle under the bird's head. "Pen-Two? Is that your name? Pen-Square? No, it doesn't sounds right, you look more like a Pen-Pen!"

"Wark?" the bird looked at her for a long time, tilting its head. Misato felt as if it was studying her. The bird seemed to shrug its flippers and waddled along the beach. A few steps later, it turned its head around, looked at Misato, and warked again.

"You want me to follow you?" she asked.

"Waaark!" the penguin answered impatiently. Waddled back to Misato, and raised a flipper to her hand. Somehow, three claws extended slowly from it, pushing her hand carefully ahead. The bird lowered its flipper, raised the other, pointing ahead with one extended claw, and waddled away again. Misato shrugged and followed the bird.

* * *

_**Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
** _ _**Moya's Docking Bay** _

"Oh-hohoho!" Rygel rubbed his hands together, clearly anticipating the opening of the second crate. "What is this, Chiana? Is it legal?"

Chiana lay down sideways on a chair, and tossed her hair. "Totally for the grabs down there, Rygel! There are whole _warehouses_ full of the stuff! All up for grabs."

Rygel opened the chocolate bar pack, and breathed deeply, enjoying the sweet smell. "Delightful! I will personally supervise the loading of this stuff!"

"Easy, cowboy!" she dropped one of Crichton's sayings. "There is no rush."

"Don't you understand?" the former Dominar chewed slowly on a piece of chocolate. "This is prime stuff! A few tons of it and I will have enough Mesots to hire a whole army of mercenaries!"

"Ah, yes." Chiana smiled her vulpine smile. "I think we better talk about percentages… and contacts to move the stuff." she stood up, grabbed a chocolate bar, and walked around Rygel's floating throne waving the small package. "My very esteemed High Majesty Rygel…" she grabbed the back of the throne, whispering in his auditory membrane. "Rygel the XVI, Dominar to over… 600… billion… subjects. Lord of the whole Hynerian Empire." She giggled.

Rygel smiled back. "Indeed. Indeed we have."

* * *

Down on the former cells level, D'Argo knocked twice on the panel outside Stark's room. "Feeling better?" he asked. "I have some human food here."

"Come ahead." The door opened, Stark's voice was calmer now. The former slave sat on the floor, legs crossed.

"Uh… Um… Sorry about the…" D'Argo waved his hands awkwardly.

"No need to apologize, D'Argo. I know I was a danger to myself and everybody else. Thank you."

D'Argo exhaled softly the breath he had been holding. He sat on the bed.

"Here. I think you need these." He handed a brightly wrapped package to the Banik. "These are the things Crichton calls _crackers_. Don't taste too bad."

Stark opened the package, and began to eat. He offered the package to D'Argo, who refused kindly. "I had a few already."

Silence fell on the two. The only sound was Stark eating the crackers.

"John is still around."

"Yeah." The Luxan scoffed, "In a box full of orange goo."

"No." Stark pointed down. "He is down there. On Earth. I'm not sure where. It is a big planet. Finding him among over three billion souls…" he shrugged. "Not easy."

"There's no one there! The place is like a… museumleum!"

Stark smiled bitterly. "I know. But I didn't mean people. I meant souls. I felt them crossing, D'Argo. All at once. Crossing through me."

The warrior looked at him. "So…"

"So." Stark nodded. "I think I have the right to go crazy for a while after that. Being a Stykera has a price."

He offered the package again. This time, D'Argo took a cracker, and ate it, thinking on what Stark had just revealed.

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins,  
A Supermarket Near the Beach** _

Harvey looked around, alert for any ambush. Without Scorpius' armor, he was as vulnerable as any seba… as any human being. He took the leg of a broken chair. Thus armed, he proceeded into the place. It was a mess. The floor was covered by all the merchandise that had been knocked down from the shelves.

He picked up a package, furrowing his brow. The characters printed on it were not completely unfamiliar. Unintelligible, yes. Unknown, no.

Japanese. What the frell had happened to the translator microbes?

Somehow, he and Crichton had ended up in Japan of all places. Right under the nose of the giant apparition. A cold sweat formed on his bald scalp. Quickly, the former neural clone took a cart, and filled it to the brim with anything and everything.

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins,  
Beach** _

Shinji Ikari face was tense with concentration. He had been thinking.

Thinking deep.

After the clusterfuck his life had been the last few months, he had finally had a chance to stop and think.

Tokyo-3 in ruins? To be expected. After the white Evangelions had been released and the GeoFront breached with an N2 Mine, Tokyo-3 was in better shape than he would have expected.

The orange sea? He felt his stomach churning when he remembered what it was made of. Even worse, what it actually meant. When he had awoken next to that Asuka copy, he had not taken it well. He had finally been granted a reprieve, and his own mind had to play that cruel trick on him.

The Asuka copy lay on the beach, quite far from him. Good. He didn't want anything to do with it. He was tired of the real Asuka's attitude. And ashamed of himself, if he had to be absolutely honest with himself. And there was no point in deceiving himself now, was it?

Now, the strange thing in this new nightmare was the gaijin. He wouldn't have expected to have such a weird hallucination. The man was tall, big, strong and very fast. He had been painfully tackled to ground, grappled, and tied up in less time than it took to think about it.

He looked like a westerner. Shinji regretted not having been in the Foreign Languages English Club before arriving to Tokyo-3. He could recognize a few words here and there, but the gist of whatever the man said escaped him.

The other man was even stranger. Tall and skinny, wearing an incongruous Hawaiian shirt Shinji was sure could be heard in the dark, so noisome it was; his teeth were dark and strangely serrated. His voice was soft, but somehow it carried up a sense of menace that the westerner seemed to simply let slide.

What could those two delusions mean?

He had never met anybody even remotely alike to these two, so why they appeared now?

Shinji adjusted his position with difficulty. The strong gaijin had tied his hands behind his back.

The former pilot looked away, over the Sea of Souls, and saw Rei's giant half head partially submerged in the orange water. A tear escaped against his will. "Rei…" he whispered. His own voice surprised him. It was raw, coarse.

Broken.

He felt like laughing. But held the laughter in. His shoulders trembled.

The man shook his shoulder, distracting him from his thoughts. There was worry in his words. All Shinji understood from whatever he said was "Okay" and "Kid". Not much.

Shinji nodded anyway. The man pointed at the fake girl and said something. Shinji guessed he was asking for her name. he shrugged before answering. "Asuka".

The man nodded gravely. He tapped at his chest twice. "Crayton. Jon Crayton."

Shinji furrowed his brow. The man pointed at him. Rude. But maybe he was just ignorant… He? Could Shinji think of the delusion as a person? Was he real?

But…

If the man was real… then…

His eyes opened wide.

Then the fake Asuka could be real too!

What he had thought was a trick of his guilty conscience was the real Asuka? _Could it be?_

Shinji shook violently. His eyes darting all around, to the alarm of the westerner.

He screamed.


	9. Chapter 9

_**(Not So) Beautiful World** _

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins,  
Beach** _

"Our situation is more complex than we had thought, John!" Almost running, Harvey arrived back to the beach; pushing a shopping cart, full to the brim with a wild assortment of stuff.

"Yeah, I had noticed, Harvey." Said Crichton sarcastically, shaking the shoulders of the unknown kid. The teenager howled desperately, his eyes wild and his breath ragged and irregular. His head turned violently left and right, as if he was surrounded by enemies, and looking for a way to flee.

Crichton held the boy´s shoulders down against the sand. "If he keeps like that, he's gonna give himself a seizure, Harvey! Help me hold him down. He´s gonna dislocate a shoulder unless we immobilize him!"

The boy wasn't even trying to escape, he just trashed uncontrollably in Crichton's arms, screaming his head off. His voice was raw and full of horror and hurt.

"Good… thing… this … is sand!" Harvey said between clenched teeth as he kept the boy's head from hitting against the soft ground. Repeated impacts would end up causing lesions, even against a relatively soft surface.

It took several long minutes for the kid to exhaust himself, while both Crichton and Harvey tried to stop him from hurting himself. Finally, his strength spent, the skinny boy finally closed his eyes, and fell into a fitful sleep.

"What's the PROBLEM with him?" Crichton exhaled violently.

"I don't know." Harvey passed a hand over his bald scalp. "He seems to be suffering from some kind of mental trauma." Harvey knelt down next to the boy, while Crichton paced around.

A female voice interrupted them, a steady stream of Japanese. The red headed girl had awoken while their attention had been centered in the boy.

"Woowoowoowoo!" Crichton said, waving his arms back and forth, before using his hands to form a letter "T", the standard gesture to ask for a pause in sports, a chance to conference with his companion. He turned towards Harvey, "How come we can't understand them? What happened to the translator microbes?"

"My guess is that we do not have translator microbes anymore, John." Harvey shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, as if microbes could cure you from your linguistic deficiencies." The girl said, with a mocking smile.

Crichton rolled his eyes, "And right now, both of you are speaking English. Her, I can understand, she´s an _Earthling_ ; but you Harvey? Just where could… you...?" He paused, shaking his head and raising his arms to the heavens, letting them drop almost immediately. "I am an idiot. Of course you can speak English, you learnt it from me while you rummaged in my memories. Right?"

Harvey nodded, "That´s right, but I wouldn´t say you are an idiot. You were simply distracted. Perfectly understandable. I am the idiot in any case. I didn't even realize I was speaking English _instead of Scarran_." He then proceded to say several words in a language both guttural and sibilant. "Yeah, I still can speak Scarran. For a moment I feared my vocal apparatus wouldn´t be able to manage the consonants."

"Have you two idiots finished with your idiocy?" The girl spoke English with a marked German accent. "I didn't come back from Third Impact just to be stranded with three idiots after the Gott-damned Apocalypse."

Crichton gaped at her. "You, speak, _English_." He remarked, somewhat accusatorily.

The girl answered smugly, her hands on her hips. "I can speak, read, and write fluently in German, Japanese, French, and evidently, English. Now, who are you two stooges and what are you doing with _my_ idiot?"

"You two know each other?" Crichton asked arching his eyebrows, while Harvey silently studied the girl's face, his head leaning forward, like vulture examining a dying animal.

She answered after a couple of seconds, her eyes low for a moment, but raised defiantly in the next. Her voice tinged with bitterness. "Yeah. His name is Shinji Ikari. The Third Child. Evangelion pilot, he is a spineless worm, a pervert, and completely useless in the only fight that mattered at the end."

Gingerly, she touched the bandage covering her left eye. "Hmmph… do you happen to have a first aid kit at hand? I think it will be better to change this thing. Swimming in LCL cannot be good for an open wound. I can feel it crusting my bandages."

"Leaving aside for a moment exactly what LCL is, Harv, you are the closest we have to a doctor right now." Crichton said, not looking at his companion. "Now, Miss, would you be so kind to tell us exactly what happened here? Ah, is your name Asuka, by any chance?"

"I see my fame precedes me." She preened importantly, shaking her head to display her long red hair, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the crusted fluid that had dried over it. "I am Asuka Langley Soryu. Second Child and the best Gott-damned pilot you could ever find. And you are..?"

The human tapped at his chest. "John Crichton, astronaut." He pointed his thumb at his companion. "And the creepy guy with the hideous Hawaiian shirt is Harvey." The former neural clone nodded slowly, his unblinking grey eyes set on the girl's own.

"Surname?" Asuka arched an eyebrow.

"No surname. Just Harvey." Crichton snickered. "Just like Madonna, or Cher."

Harvey and Asuka snorted at the same time.

"Indeed, _just_ Harvey. Now, Miss Asuka. Let me see your wounds." Harvey rummaged in the shopping cart. He had, in fact, brought several first aid kits from the supermarket.

With unexpected dignity, Asuka sat on a chair Crichton had dragged from the street closest to the beach. She looked like a warrior princess. With some help from Crichton, Harvey and John put a gauze mask over their respective noses and mouths, and used soap and a couple of bottles of water to wash their hands; followed by disinfectant gel, as instructed by Crichton. Carefully, Harvey lifted the adhesive strips that held the bandage in place, while Crichton waited to help.

Harvey examined her carefully, delicately moving her head one side to another to better see the eye. "Hmm… No signs of infection. Your sclera is a bit red, I think it will pass soon. In any case, let's clean the area and change the bandage to keep everything clean."

Asuka nodded, but her surprise had been noted by the pair. "Hmmph. Any scarring? My sight is a bit blurry in that eye."

"I don't think so." Harvey mused, while he applied new gauze and adhesive strips over her eye. "Just some mild irritation. My best guess is that you must have rubbed some irritant on your face. Were you cooking with chilli?"

Asuka snorted. "No. Cooking is the Stooge's job." She pointed at Shinji with her thumb. "Now, check my arm."

Harvey looked at Crichton, who simply nodded. "Exactly what happened to merit a whole arm bandaged? Did you get burnt or what?"

"You see those white things on the bay?" Asuka looked despectively at the figures half submerged in the orange tinted water. "They came to invade my city. We had a big fight. I won. But they cheated."

"Oookay…" Crichton wasn't sure of what to think. On one hand, Asuka's fragmentary story was too wild to be true, but he had spent the last three years running around a far away part of the galaxy, chased and chasing and dealing with all kind of strange creatures. Giant robots would be relatively tame by that standard.

While Harvey worked carefully to remove the bandage, Asuka continued. "What? Did you spent your life in a cave? I am an _Evangelion_ pilot. How come you two morons have no idea of what that means? Did you miss the Angels invading Earth? Hölle!"

Softly, Crichton answered. "We have been away. Very far away. Now, please assume that we have both been, indeed, living in a cave, and please explain everything from the beginning."

A long rant in German followed. Crichton and Harvey looked at each other, and shrugged.

Neither of them realized they were being watched.

* * *

_**Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
** _ _**Moya's Control Room** _

Pilot directed the DRD's all over Moya, maneuvering the small droid-like drones to inspect every cubic decimetra of the living ship. "This is going to take a while." He mumbled, clenching his jaws.

He still monitored the satellite transmissions from Earth. Each passing arn, the amount of traffic shrank more and more, as satellites and repeating stations lost energy, or ran out of automated content. A pity, as some of the musical pieces broadcasted were quite interesting. Some of them even beautiful. The growing silence weighted heavily on the symbiotic beings' emotions.

Suddenly, Pilot and Moya had a growing respect for the planet that had produced John Crichton. The man himself could be a walking contradiction, irritating at times, but the world of his birth had some good things.

Pilot shook his head. He would commit to Moya's memory as much as he would dare. He owed at least that to Crichton's memory. To his people's memory, he corrected himself.

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins  
Beach** _

Misato Katsuragi gasped in surprise, and hid behind a rock. She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes very open.

There he was.

Literally, the boy of her dreams.

Tied up like some… like an animal!

She pursed her lips, and began to look around. Next to her, Pen-Pen tilted his head, looking at her with curiosity.

"A-ha!" she had found a house with the door open. "Wait here, Pen-Pen. I'll be back in a moment."

To her surprise, the bird nodded, and somehow, managed to sit down on the sand. While she looked towards where the boy and his captor had made camp, she moved towards the house with all the stealth she was able to gather at her fifteen years. The penguin simply leaned back against the rook, looking for all the world as if all he was missing to be completely happy was a can of beer and a newspaper.

Once inside the house, she looked around until she found a pair of scissors and a very sharp knife.

The beginning of a plan sprung in her mind.

* * *

_**Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
** _ _**Moya's Bridge** _

D'Argo walked aimlessly around Moya. His trusty Qualta Blade at his back. Eventually, his steps carried him back to the bridge. He dragged out a stool and sat down in front of the compartment that contained the orange goo Crichton had been turned to.

"Pilot."

"Any news from Earth, Ka D'Argo?" Pilot answered a moment later.

"Not good ones. We found no one down there. The city seems to be completely empty. And our visit to the NASA building didn't really got us any useful information. The only thing I can say is that the strange girl must have had a lot of help to do the same to everybody in the city at the same time."

"Moya and myself have not been able to discern how she entered here. And the things she said make no sense, except to her, obviously."

"What really bothers me that even if she had help, and they managed to turn every living human into that goo, where are they now? Where did they disappeared to?"

Pilot took a few seconds before answering, "I must admit the thought hadn't occurred to me. Moya says she dopesn't know either. After the girl disappeared, Moya tried to track her. All her energy emissions match the ones from the giant. Exactly. And to the limits of Moya's senses. For all intents and purposes, the girl and the giant are the same thing."

"How is that even possible? Even Crichton duplicates had some variations to their structures, right down to the molecular level. It is as if the giant and the strange girl were one and the same."

D'Argo exhaled slowly. "Why not?" He stood up and pace the room. "Why could she be some kind of… what's the word..? worker dee? You know, those colony insects Crichton compares us with when we're all working at the same time."

"She would have to be a literal part of the giant, D'Argo." Pilot said after a few seconds. "Hmm… Even is your theory is true, I don't see how that information could help us recover Crichton."

D'Argo sat down again. "Neither do I."

Stark chose that moment to enter the bridge. "Maybe I do."

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins,  
Beach** _

Major Misato Katsuragi, NERV's Chief of Operations, gasped a lungful of sweet air. She had no idea of where she was or how she had arrived there. All she knew was that things had really gone to hell.

She patted her stomach, looking for the bullet wounds that had killed her. But her clothes were whole, damp with a strange orange fluid, very similar to LCL. It even smelled the same. Whatever it was, it dried up quickly, leaving behind a sticky residue that flaked off quickly.

Disbelieving, she pulled up her blouse, looking for the wounds, even the scars.

There was not a single blemish on the skin of her belly.

She unbuttoned her blouse completely, the ragged scar that ran between her breasts was gone. The always present reminder of Second Impact had disappeared completely!

Misato looked around; her eyes wide as her mind accepted the inescapable evidence of her failure.

Tokyo-3 in ruins. The whole city had become nothing but ruins. Those SEELE bastards had won.

They had enacted Instrumentality.

They had finally won.

Cursing them, her fingers dug into the warm sand, impotently seeking a release for her anger, her sadness.

Hot tears fell on the sand as she sobbed. Her shoulders shook painfully with each ragged sob.

"Shinji… Asuka…" she whispered, looking back to the white monsters that had managed to do what the invading Angels, with all their incomprehensible power had been unable to do. To destroy her life and the lives of her wards.

And if what she was seeing before her eyes was the same everywhere, as she feared would be the case, they had destroyed the whole world too. There was not a single sound, except for the whisper of the wind, the crashing of the waves, and her own breath. The world was silent as a tomb.

For a moment, Misato Katsuragi seriously considered the possibility of having been sentenced to Hell. A little taste of Heaven before the Fall, just to make the torture even worse. She shook her head, as if to rid herself of those thoughts.

Trembling, she stood up, her fists tightly closed. Her nails dug into the flesh of her palms, but she didn't even notice the pain. Later, she couldn't say for how long she had stood there, just looking at the monsters as if she could destroy them with her angry stare.

Until a scream brought her back. A scream she knew very well, having heard it too many times before. A scream full of fear, pain, and horror.

Shinji's scream.

She ran towards the scream. It was at the other side of the beach. Pebbles and small stones almost made her fall down several times. She slowed her pace just a bit. It would do Shinji no good if she twisted her ankle.

* * *

_**Author Notes:** _

Yes, I am leaving this chapter right here (Evil Smile).

Explanations will be provided next chapter.

* * *

The original idea for this fic came from a scene I though would happen when Crichton and Harvey tried to communicate with Shinji and Asuka, they hear them speaking in Japanese, and without the translator microbes, neither can understand a word.

So they resort to using charades and gestures to try to communicate with the pilots. After a very long time, and lots of antics, finally Asuka and Shinji reveal they both speak English. Cue Facepalm.

Obviously, thing didn´t go that way in the story proper, but I had a lot of fun writing angry-annoyed Asuka.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Misato Takes Charge (Of Some Things)** _

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins,  
Beach** _

"Uh… Miss… would you be so kind to lower your knife?" John tried to defuse the situation. A purple haired girl had appeared from somewhere, and waved a sharp looking cooking knife at him, using both hands to steady it. She may not be able to slash with it, but she could trust it easily.

"No! I don't know who you are, but the kid comes with me." She shook her purple hair out of her face.

Asuka looked at the newcomer for a long moment. "…You look like somebody I know…" She narrowed her uncovered eye, trying to place the new girl.

"Shut up, and untie him." The girl snapped at the german-raised pilot.

"He is in no condition to go anywhere, miss. He in unconscious and had a nervous breakdown a few minutes ago." Harvey argued.

"Shut up! I saw you hurting him! He comes with me!"

Both John and Harvey sighed in perfect synchrony. "We were trying to stop him from hurting himself! He had a hysteric episode! He was practically convulsing!"

At this, the girl hesitated, Asuka snapped her fingers, "Ah, I know why you look so familiar! Are you related to Misato Katsuragi?"

The knife-wielding girl looked at the redhaired teen. "What? How do you know my name? Do I know you?"

"Woowoowoowoo!" Once again, John had to try to impose a little sanity in the mess that was his life. "Okay, Miss Katsuragi. How about we all sit down for a minute and try to talk to each other, okay?" to reinforce his point, he sat heavily on the sand, grabbing his left wrist with his right hand, both empty. "My name is John Crichton, pleased to meet you. You know Shinji here?"

Misato hesitated. "Uh… no… not personally… but."

Harvey followed Crichton's example, and sat the same way. "Now, I'm not sure if you have noticed it, but apart from us, yourself included, it seems there is no one else in this city. Where are you going to drag young Shinji?"

She trembled. Asuka was already sitting on a chair, so she simply crossed her arms. "Look, I don't know what happened to you. I don't know if you are related to the Misato Katsuragi I know and certainly don't hold any lost love for or if you just happen to look like her. But it's getting dark soon, and I would prefer to spend the night somewhere safer than a deserted beach, _sind Sie nicht einverstanden_?"

"Yeah, I agree…" Misato lowered the knife, but kept it in her hand. "Wait a moment… that was German, right? I don't speak German!"

John rolled his eyes. "Great, we are the ones with translator microbes, and she's the one who gets foreign languages."

Asuka tapped her chin several times, before looking at John and Harvey "There's something very strange going on. The Misato Katsuragi I knew was also fluent in several languages, and she looked exactly like this girl. I saw a couple of pictures she had from when she was about fourteen years old. Even the same haircut. If she's a fake, somebody took a lot of trouble for nothing."

A new voice interrupted. "And what would they gain, Asuka?" It was an adult version of the girl with the knife, dressed with a red jacket and a black dress, uncongruously, she wore combat boots, that somehow looked really good on her, as John and Harvey noticed immediately, but Asuka was on a roll.

"Don't interrupt me, Misato, I'm trying to think."

"Take your time. I'll go check on Shinji in the meanwhile. Now, you and me, girl." She pointed at herself and then at the purple-haired girl. "We have to talk, later; first things first."

John looked at an elder version of the girl with the knife, and rolled his eyes again, he mouthed to Harvey, "Here we go again. More doubles…" Harvey simply nodded.

Adult Misato knelt next to Shinji, she checked he was breathing, and noted the string tying him. "Was this really necessary?" she glared at John.

"Well… yeah. When we saw him first, he was strangling Asuka."

Misato snorted, "As if. He's the gentlest soul I have ever met. He hates violence. And Asuka is not exactly a defenseless damsel."

"It's true, Misato." Asuka mumbled, while teen Misato looked at her as if she had turned into an oni. "He was releasing me when this caveman tackled the baka from over me."

"Damn! I feared he would snap, but not like that."

She stood up, dusted her hands, and looked around. "Well, what are we doing here? Let's go back to our place and see what can we do." She pointed at a still standing building. "I knew all that internal reinforcement would come on handy some day. Hopefully the generators are still in working order. We are gonna need something to move Shinji, a cart would do in a pinch." Harvey nodded dryly, and went to look for one.

Young Misato took her fingers to her mouth, and whistled. The sound echoed eerily all over the place. She waved at some rocks, and a small shape came out from behind. Adult Misato broke into a smile, and ran to the little creature. "Pen-Pen! Im so happy to see you!"

The penguin waddled to her, and a moment later, Misato picked her pet up and hugged him. The bird warked happily at her.

Crichton rubbed his face with a hand. "Oookay, now I really have seen everything."

* * *

_**Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
** _ _**Moya's Control Room  
Some hours later** _

A small melody ended, it was an uplifting song. Ironically, pathetically, uplifting; considering the circumstances. "That was the last signal Moya received, that was two arns ago." Pilot said solemnly. "Moya can't detect any more radio transmissions from Earth." To Aeryn Sun, it sounded like a death sentence for a whole world. Gently said, but no less definitive.

Aeryn's image, sent from her room, took a long time to answer. "Thank you, Pilot. Please, keep monitoring once each arn. Just in case."

"We will do so, Officer Sun." Pilot answered sadly.

Aeryn laid down on her bed. Her hands searched for Crichton's body, and found his place empty.

She stood up, shook her head, and went back out.

She felt rested, thanks to Zhaan's concoction, but restless too, she had to do something, or she would go crazy.

A few minutes later, she was in the ships bay. D'Argo was there, sitting on a bench, his hands hanging loosely between his knees. He was looking at the Farscape One. Crichton's primitive, but well loved ship. The two had spent a lot of time refurbishing the small ship. It was now actually able to fly to orbit from the surface of a planet, not needing anything else than a short stretch of smooth road.

"D'Argo." she sat next to him.

His voice was rough in the best of times, but now it was even rougher. "Aeryn." He paused. "I can't believe he is gone." He kept on looking at the ship.

"Neither can I." she mused, closing and opening her fist. "Care for some sparring? I need to do something."

He looked at her. Thinking for a long moment. "It will be best than sitting here all night, I guess." He stood up, and after a last longing look at the Farscape One, followed Aeryn to the gym.

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins,  
Katsuragi Apartment  
One Hour After Sunset, Local Time** _

"Very well. Welcome to my humble abode, everybody. Asuka, you'll stay with young me in your room." Adult Misato instructed, "Crichton and Harvey, you two put Shinji on his bed. "She motioned towards a very small room. "You can use the apartment next door, it's been empty for months, but its still furbished, the owner planned to come back once things settled down. Take some food from the fridge and I'll see you tomorrow. Right now, we should sleep and see how things are in the morning."

Crichton was almost steamrolled by the bossy Japanese woman. He shrugged, and did as he was told. Once they had put the boy in the minibedroom, he and Harvey went back to the living room. While Harvey served himself to a few packs of instant food, and left some of his own bounty on the table, Crichton put his hands at the base of his back, and pushed himself forward until his vertebrae popped back into place with a satisfactory noise. Though the building had electricity, no one wanted to risk being trapped in the elevator should it fail. So they had to carry the still unconscious boy several floors upstairs.

Asuka had gone to her room resignedly, opened the door, peeked inside, and closed it again. Guessing her unstated question, Misato nodded. "Shinji replaced some of your stuff while you were at the hospital. He said he didn't want you to have to use a sleeping bag."

The redhead had a strange look on her face. Shaking her head, she motioned to young Misato. "You get the futon, I can barely sleep on those things."The other teen nodded, she was too tired to argue anyway.

Pen-Pen simply opened his fridge, and jumped inside.

He was with his flock, that was all that mattered. Despite his hunger, he was happy. Surely there would be food in the morning.

His two providers were here, with him.

Things would be well.

* * *

_**Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA** _

_**Moya** _

Floating serenely over the USA, Moya felt sad at the loss of the radio transmissions. She knew they had been simply authomated systems, but still, their loss hurt. Not by itself, but for what it meant. In her long travels, first in Peacekeeper Space, and then in the Uncharted Territories, she had witnessed many things, but never the death of a planet.

She thought of the eccentric human, and hope stirred in her soul. The humans were gone, but they were still there, in a way she couldn't explain to her symbiotic pilot. She turned her attention to her own insides, the DRDs performing the most needed maintenance all over her innards. Pilot, in his unending vigil over her well-being. And her guests and passengers, who had been, until very recently, prisoners inside of her body, herself a prisoner.

She remembered all.

She didn't sleep, but she could certainly rest.

Moya put most of her systems to minimal output, and rested.

* * *

In his room, Rygel slept and dreamed of riches to plunder and an empire to recover. Just a cargo pallet full of chocolate bars would be enough to pay an army of mercenaries.

* * *

Not too far away, Stark also slept, but his dreams were stranger than usual. He was glad Moya would stay for a while. He dreamt of his home, of his teachers, of the first soul he had helped pass to the other side. All those memories he carried like a slab of stone crushing his soul.

And there was something new. An unknown face intruded in his dream. It was a young sebacean male, or maybe a human. With an almond shaped face, brown hair, blue eyes, and a look of pain Stark knew very well.

The boy carried that same weight on his own soul.

* * *

Zhann used the 'night' time to meditate. Her mind wandered freely during those times, free from the distractions her friends, well-intentioned as they were, always carried with them.

She sat naked at the center of her room, long legs crossed, and her hands resting over her knees, in a pose Crichton insisted on calling _'Lotus position, Smurfette. After a flower from my world.'_

She focused her thoughts into balancing each other. As a Pau of her rank knew how to do. It was restful and calming.

* * *

The crew of Moya went to sleep thinking the same question to him or herself.

What will we do tomorrow?

The very same question haunted the strange group of Tokyo-3 survivors.

Except for one, who simply kept on sleeping a dreamless sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Late in the (Silent) Night** _

* * *

**_Tokyo-3  
Katsuragi-Ikari-Soryu Apartment  
Balcony, Late Night_ **

Misato Katsuragi stayed up late, sitting on a chair on the balcony, looking at the dead city. Dark buildings all around. The only light was the bloodied moon in the sky. The air was still warm, despite the hour. She had a blanket at hand, but for the moment, she was still wearing her favorite sleeping clothes, a ratty yellow t-shirt, and denim shorts, just as ratty as the t-shirt.

She shook the can of beer. Her favorite brand. There was still some beer inside it. Warm, flat…

Misato had already spent a long time there, nursing the beer. Though she wanted nothing more than drown her problems in alcohol, she restrained herself. This was not the moment. Maybe once she and the rest had a better handle on things, she would indulge, but not now.

Right now it was a time for thinking. For remembering. For planning, maybe.

"Things really went to hell, Katsuragi. All the way down…" she mused. For once, she was glad her apartment had no view to the sea. The orange water creeped her out. It looked like LCL, and smelled and tasted exactly like blood. Just like the blood of Lilith, in fact.

"What the hell happened?" She asked, at no one in particular.

* * *

**_Tokyo-3  
Katsuragi-Ikari-Soryu Apartment  
Shinji's Lovely Suite_ **

Inside the small room, Shinji Ikari slept, and after a long time, he began to dream.

He dreamt of a long journey. Of leaving behind everything he had known.

Of leaving behind the pain, the guilt, the shame. …the loneliness.

He dreamt of himself, walking among the stars of the sky.

And smiled.

* * *

**_Tokyo-3  
Katsuragi-Ikari-Soryu Apartment  
Asuka's Room_ **

Asuka Langley Soryu turned around in the bed, listening to her guest's breathing. That young copy of Misato snored as loudly as the original. The red headed former pilot wrapped the pillow around her head, taking care not to hurt her eye or arm.

It took her some time, but she finally fell asleep. Months of living with Misato, and she was more or less used to the roaring symphony coming from the next room.

Her dreams were vague impressions of anger and hate and disdain. Equally directed at the Third Child and to herself.

No, only to him, he deserved it.

Somewhere, deep in her soul, a small child cried.

But Asuka Langley Soryu wouldn't listen to that small voice. Her pride was at stake. And if there was something she wouldn't ever let go, it was her pride.

* * *

Young Misato dreamed too, she dreamed of awakening in a white room. Of being herself and not. Of being so broken she had somehow become whole again.

She was split in two, the child she had been, and the child she had to become.

The her-that-was-not-her gradually changing into She-Who-Became-Misato. While Misato-Who-Was simply slept inside herself.

It had been a long time ago, and yet, it was as if it had been yesterday.

Her happy memories of the last months, traveling with her parents were revealed as an illusion.

The true memories came to light, almost unbearable.

She remembered the biting cold of Antarctic. Her anger at her father, who once again seeked refuge in work, fleeing his responsibilities as a man, a husband, and a father.

Her last memories of her father, dying over the rescue cylinder, while a giant made of light screamed at the sky, destroying everything around him. Killing half the world.

Waking up in the rescue pod, watching in horror as the giant unfolded its impossibly large wings, and shrank down until she could see it no more.

Floating in the water for three days, feeling her mind unravel every minute.

There was a chunk of time missing, she had no idea of what had happened for several months, until Professor Fujutsuki managed to guide her back out from her own mind.

Throwing herself at her studies first, then at a fellow student.

The fear of commitment and the pain of breaking up due to that same fear.

Getting into the UN military, climbing ranks until she managed to be assigned to care for the hope for the future; a very damaged girl, as alone in the world as herself.

Rescuing a mistreated penguin, genetically altered, and adopting it as a pet and companion.

The reassignment to Tokyo-3, finally getting a chance for revenge on the monsters that had destroyed her life.

The strange, almost unfeeling girl who had been practically alone her whole life.

The sad, lonely boy who would be both her ward and her keeper. Despite everything life kept throwing at him, he was a gentle and calm presence in her life, until… until he broke under the weight of expectations that he shouldn't have been burdened with.

The broken angry girl, who she had hoped would help the boy, and in turn be helped by him. But everything had gone wrong.

Her first love returned, and lost again.

That final, horrible day, when everything went down in fire and ash. Her own death, after making a promise she knew wouldn't be able to fulfill, for the small chance it would give the sad boy something to hope for. Something to fight for.

Her world ended in pain and fire. The last thing she saw was a teen girl with blue hair and red eyes, holding her hand to her.

A brief respite, reliving the best week of her life. A week full of love and passion.

And then, returning to a dead world…

Young Misato cried in her sleep, finally understanding.

The memories were almost unbearable.

Almost.

She had a promise to keep. And she would do everything in her power to keep it.

When morning came, she would have forgotten everything, except for her promise, and a feeling of empathy towards the older version of herself.

* * *

**_Tokyo-3  
Katsuragi-Ikari-Soryu Apartment  
Balcony_ **

Adult Misato drained the last drops of her beer, when she noticed movement on the adjacent balcony. It was one of the gaijin she had met on the beach. Crichton. He had discarded the leather vest and pants, trading them for pajama pants and a sleeveless t-shirt. She guessed he was barefoot, as his feet made no noise as he walked.

The former Chief of Operations noticed that the man was attractive, in a rugged way; but so was Kaji, and she was still in mourning for the man who had returned to her life for too brief a time.

The man dragged a chair, and sat heavily on it. "Can't sleep either, uh?" He said. The man had been quite abrupt back at the beach, but now he seemed very easy-going. He tried to smile, but his smile was tinged with worry.

Misato smiled tiredly at him. "No. Lots of things in my head. You?"

"The same", he shrugged, and waved an arm around, encompassing the ruined city, and the world beyond, "say… just what the frell happened here?" He put a couple of cans of beer on the floor, next to the chair, and passed one to Misato over the divisory screen that separated both balconies.

"Where were you last year?" She scoffed, opening the can. Thank the Kami, it was cold. She took a sip, savoring the liquid.

Crichton rolled his eyes. "Yeah, your red headed friend said the same. Let's just say Harvey and I were out of town, living in a cave, in the middle of the dessert. No TV. Not even an AM radio."

Despite herself, Misato cracked a smile. "And no internet either, I guess."

"Right. No cell phone coverage either." He said, opening his own beer with a crack and a hiss, he took a long sip, and wiped his mouth with a pinch of his fingers. "Let's make a deal. You tell me what happened here. Incredible as it may be, and then I'll tell you my story, incredible as it will be."

"Deal." She clinked her beer against Crichton's. "As far as I personally knew, it all begun in 1999, down at the Antarctic. My father took me with him in a scientific expedition. So I had a first row seat to the apocalypse."

* * *

**_Tokyo-3  
Crichton and Harvey's Provisional Apartment  
Harvey's Bedroom_ **

The newly born human wrapped himself in a blanket. It was a novelty for him. Feeling the cloth against his skin, instead of the leather-like armor. It was even better than Crichton's perfect world. Just because it was real. Objectively, real.

He found a comfortable position, and for the first time in his existence, he fell asleep.

There were no dreams waiting for him, only rest.

He was free.

Free from the armor that was both his freedom and his prison. Though, actually he had never worn it, he had the memories.

Free from a duty programmed into his very being.

And above everything, free from Scorpius.

The only things he had kept from the Scarran-Sebacean hybrid were his teeth.

And his memories.

But he could, he would, live with that.

Be himself.

Not a copy.

Just Harvey.

As different from Scorpius as… humanly possible!

* * *

**_Moya  
Cargo Bay B (Temporary Gymnasium)_ **

Aeryn Sun and Ka D'argo, two warriors from very different worlds, finally yielded to fatigue.

They had sparred for hours, unarmed and armed. They had gone through every martial discipline they knew. Teaching and learning.

Chiana walked in the chamber as the pair stored the practice weapons back in place. "Hey," she said, "feeling better?" She cocked her head to the right, looking at them with curiosity.

Aeryn wiped sweat from her face with a cloth. "A bit, yeah." She turned to Dargo, who was putting his shirt back on his muscular torso. The Qualta Blade harness at hand. "You?" She asked the Luxan.

"The same. I still want to look for a way to get Crichton back, but less clouded by worry."

"Good." Chiana nodded. "I was looking for you two. I think we should go back down, and get as much food as we can. Especially those chocolate bars."

She felt the looks of her friends. "What? We are running low on food cubes, and no one is using it!"

Aeryn thought about it for a while. "She's right, Dargo. We should restock the pantry. Prepare the lander, we three are going for food." She turned to Chiana, who had a very innocent smile on her lips. "And you and I are going to have a talk, I want to know why do you want the chocolate." Aeryn passed an arm over the Nebari's shoulders. And squeezed.

Chiana's smile dropped so fast it should have made a sound. She looked at Dargo, looking for some support. The big Luxan smiled crookedly. "A very good question, Chiana. I'm sure it will have a very good answer." He turned to Aeryn, "I'll prepare the ship, right after I have taken a shower. I suggest you do the same, or the lander will stink of sweat for days."

He whipped the cloth over his shoulders, and walked out the bay.

Stark joined him in the hall, the Banik exslave cringed a little, but composed himself. "I'd like to go down too. I need to see what happened down there."

Dargo stopped and poked with his index at Stark's chest. "You better not go fahrbot in the ship, we have enough problems already."

"Zahn already gave me some calming tea. See?" He shook a bottle next to his own head. The plastiramic bottle clinked again the metallic half-mask. "And if needed, I give you permission to knock me off again."

Dargo grumbled. "Very well, but at the first sign of hysterics I'll do it. Now, get a couple cargo platforms; we are going to move a lot of stuff, heavy stuff."

"Sure. I will." The Banik obeyed while Dargo went back to his room.

* * *

**_Tokyo-3  
Katsuragi-Ikari-Soryu Apartment  
Balcony_ **

John Crichton looked at the empty can of beer for long seconds, then he crushed it in his fist. "I give up. That's it. _I. Give. Up._ I thought the universe couldn't throw me any worse curve balls. I mean, suuure, let's SEND this schmuk to the OTHER SIDE of the galaxy, get him adopted as the dumb mascot by a crew of escaped prisoners, some of whom might even DESERVE their sentences, on board a living ship and get him chased by a maniac for a stupid ACCIDENT! And then get him chased by an even WORSE maniac who also happens to implant a frelling copy of himself into the schmuk's brain!" (1)

Crichton crushed the can with both hands until it was a little ball of aluminium. "That, I can deal with. Heck, I was getting used to it."

Misato took the pause to finish her beer. Crichton kept on with his rant. "What I can't deal with is this Third Impact dren, you know. Giant monsters right out of a Godzilla movie fighting even worse monsters. Nononono, _THAT_ , I can handle. CHILDREN piloting those monsters! Thats what really gets me! I thought Asuka was either joking or being delusional when she told us she and Shinji were pilots!" He wiped his face with a hand.

"I still haven't gotten to the worst part." Misato whispered, her eyes down.

"Oh, no. Nononono, little miss Mother Goose. I am gonna need something stronger than beer to properly deal with this dren." Crichton threw the can with all his might. Somewhere down there, it hit something. The small noise magnified by the silence. He half expected to hear an angry cat's yowl, but no. There was nothing.

"But." He passed a hand over his hair, and raised his right index finger. "But I don't dare to get really sloshed right now. I need to stay sharp and deal with things." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You wouldn't happen to have some sleeping pills at hand?"

"Sure I do, but even I know mixing them with alcohol is dangerous. So, no pills for either of us. Anyway, we can take tomorrow off. Sleep late." She shrugged. "I'm sure tomorrow is Saturday. And if it isn't, who cares?"

Crichton chuckled. "Yeah, you're right, Major."

"I'm sure I have some tea, Shinji kept the pantry well stocked. I'll be back."

"Leave the car outside." Crichton answered in autopilot, Misato raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, Terminator reference. Every time the Terminator said that, he crashed a car into the building."

"Cool movies." She disappeared into the apartment. A few minutes later, she returned with a few bags of tea, "This should be enough for tonight. You have water, right?"

Crichton took the teabags, "Yup, Harvey brought some bottles."

"Well, I will retire for the night. We have lots to do tomorrow, sleep tight." She yawned, and stretched her arms.

Distractedly, Chrichton noticed she was a very attractive woman, but he had come back from that illusory world to get back to Aeryn, dammit! Misato reminded him of Aeryn's drive and decisiveness. And he would do everything he could to get back to the former Peacekeeper. Still, the purple haired woman was good company. "I'll try. Good night, Major."

"Good night, Commander." She went back into her apartment and locked the balcony door.

Crichton did the same, he heated some water in the microwave, thankfully it had bilingual tags, prepared his tea, and went to bed.

"Well, Toto, we are not In frelling Kansas anymore." He whispered to himself.

The tea must have been really strong; he had barely closed his eyes, and he was out like a light.

* * *

Author Notes:

I hope you are all safe and sound.

(1) A very short summary of the first two seasons of Farscape. if you havent seen the series, I urge you to watch it!


	12. Chapter 12

_**(Late) Breakfast at Misatos´** _

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins** _   
_**Apartment Next to Katsuragi/Ikari/Soryu´s** _

When Crichton woke up, he did so with a start. He didn't do that weird catapult move movies and TV seemed to think was the only proper way to wake up from a nightmare.

It was more like just a sudden shake, and he was fully awake.

For a moment at least. Though he had slept a good while, he had not rested as much as he would have liked. Even in Moya, his sleep patterns had changed to lighter sleep. Being constantly in danger did that to you, he thought.

The former IASA astronaut wiped his face with a hand, and sat up on the small bed. He was lucky to prefer sleeping face down, as his feet hung over the edge of the bed, covered by the sheets and blanket. He got up, scratched his belly, and looked around. It was an unknown, but perfectly normal Terran bedroom. It took him a moment to remember how exactly had he ended up in that particular bedroom. In Japan, no less.

Crichton went to the bathroom, took care of some urgent needs, and showered quickly. No sense on wasting water. A quick check around the bathroom sink revealed a pack of toothbrushes, still factory sealed. He broke the seal, and claimed one for himself. It would feel weird after getting used to the denticos (1), but well…

"Oookay, Now to figure out what to do." He sniffed his clothes, and decided they could wait for a good wash. Although they looked like black leather, they were actually cloth. They could be put in a washing machine with no problem. "Man, I'm gonna need some more clothes, and I doubt they will be easy to find. The owner of this place was big for a Japanese, but his pajamas were a bit short on the legs."

He went to the kitchen, where he found Harvey, still dressed with his awful Hawaiian shirt and Bermudas, looking intently at a magazine. "Yo, Harvey! What's up?" He tried to make sense of the magazine, but apart from the equivalent to "To Be Continued…" at the end of most anime chapters, he was useless at reading Japanese.

The former neural clone put the magazine down, he was no better than Crichton, but in any case, he had been looking at the pictures, trying to learn some thing from context. He had not managed to learn much, he would need to learn from a native speaker/reader. "Good morning, John. I was waiting for you to wake up. Major Katsuragi has scheduled a meeting to discuss matters in…" he looked at a suspiciously new wristwatch, "…twenty minutes." He poured coffee in a mug, and pushed it towards Crichton. "I suggest you and I prepare breakfast there. Young Asuka seems to dread the idea of Major Katsuragi cooking."

Crichton shrugged. "I can do the honors, pancakes and jam are my speciality, bring the milk and a box of corn flakes and we're set."

Harvey gathered the requested ingredients, "You know, John. I think we need to bring up our… point of origin at some time."

"Yeaup. No need, Katsuragi and I traded some war stories last night, you won't believe the kind of dren that has been happening here the last fifteen years."

"What do you mean?" Harvey put his own mug on the table, visibly shaken.

"Remember the budong?"

Harvey nodded.

"Well… the things that came to Earth are not so big, but definitively on another whole level of weird. She has some stories to tell I wouldn't believe if it wasn't for the big giant half-head in the bay. _And_ the budong."

The new human leaned back on his chair, tapping his chin with the index fingers. "I see, could our own experience in the false paradise be part of the events here?"

"Oh, hell, yes! We have to compare notes with them." Crichton shook his head. "We have to plan our next step. And find a way to call Moya before they decide to starburst away. I don´t fancy the idea of staying in a dead world for longer than _strictly_ necessary." He tapped at his right tigh, at the empty holster. "Especially without Winona at hand. Things look really quiet around here, but I wouldn´t bet on them keeping that way."

* * *

_**Tokyo-3 Ruins** _   
_**Katsuragi/Ikari/Soryu Apartment** _

Asuka glared at young Misato, who had managed to take the last piece of toast with jam. To avoid acknowledging how much that bothered her, she pointed back with her thumb, towards the bedrooms. "Well, what about the sleeping stooge? Is he gonna hibernate or what?" She growled.

Crichton drank a sip of coffee, "Let him sleep, I think he needs to process a lot of things, including his nervous breakdown yesterday." He looked absently at the strange penguin who had come out of a small fridge, taken a bowl with some sardines in it, and on the way back to his fridge, grabbed an old newspaper, put it behind his wing, and after looking back, as if to make sure he was not alone, re-entered the fridge.

Adult Misato nodded. "We all have to process a lot of stuff." She said somberly, looking for a moment at her teen counterpart. "But we can't stay idle. At the minimum, we need to check the Geo-Front, see if we can salvage something. Maybe the Magi are still operational."

"I very much doubt it, Misato." Asuka mumbled. "The JSSDF dropped a lot of bombs in the Geo-Front. If there are two bricks in place after that, I'll be eating your cooking without protest for a whole week. Atomic curry included."

Young Misato kept on looking at the door of Shinji's Lovely Suite. "Hum.. will he be okay?"

Everybody else looked around, uncomfortably. Harvey sipped his coffee, a weird expression on his face. "I have seen this kind of behavior before. The longer he sleeps, the better. He had a nasty shock to the system."

Crichton semi-glared at him. He knew exactly why Harvey knew that. Scorpius' memories. The damned freak was a very skilled torturer. And Harvey had inherited those memories, even though he abhorred his neural 'father'. The astronaut closed his eyes for a moment.

"What I would like to know is," he tilted his mug towards both Misatos, "exactly how you two are related."

Adult Misato shrugged. "As far as I can tell, she is, or she was, a part of me. Whatever happened while we were wherever we were, we got separated. We talked a bit last night, and we have the same memories up to the day before Second Impact. And we are going to have to find another name for one of us, we can't keep on with Adult Misato and Teen Misato forever."

Harvey's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "This… Second Impact you speak of… was it personally traumatic?" He missed the glare Crichton sent his way.

Misato looked at the table, while her young counterpart grabbed her hand. "It almost destroyed me."

Harvey looked at Crichton, kicking at his shin (wich got a very satisfactory wince out of the ex-neural clone), then at both Misatos. Harvey sighed, "My apologies, Major Katsuragi. I don't mean to pry, but my own existence is currently a mystery."

"Amnesia?"

Crichton took the chance, partly to delay a few revelations. "Nope. Waaay more complex than that. I don't think you will believe us when we tell you how I met Harvey." Misato´s brow furrowed, he had already ranted about some weird stuff last night, maybe that first meeting was one of those events?

He stood up, and began to clear the table of plates. "Harv, you better check on the kid. I will take care of the dishes. Major?"

A shadow crossed her face, and her eyes flickered towards the smallest room, but she stood up. "You wash, I dry."

* * *

While Harvey checked on Shinji, who was still sleeping, Crichton and Misato took care of the dirty dishes. Crichton exhaled slowly. "So, a double?" He asked.

"Yeah, I know it must be hard to believe, but she and I used to be the same person."

Crichton looked at her, and with a smug grin, he said. "Lady, you are speaking to one of the selected few people in this whole universe who can relate to that. I have been duplicated before. Triplicated once, even. So, I think I know at what Harvey was aiming for when he asked about Second Impact; and if he is right, it would solve his own mystery."

Misato arched an eyebrow. "Triplets?"

"Oh, yes. But not exaaactly identical. Myself, just as I do look now, plus a primitive version of me, and a mega-evolved me, big brain included, nice hair absent. The last one was a jerk, by the way. (2)" He raised a finger.

The purple-haired woman looked at him, and finally she asked, "And then..?"

"Well… Caveman Me saved me and my friends from Big Headed Me. Some other time, me and a couple of friends ended up inside a derelict ship, trapped with a madman and his merry band of cannibals. He had some duplicating gizmo, and I will give you three chances to guess what did he wanted the doubles for (3)."

Misato looked a little green.

"And of course, ´cause my life can't be anything simple, that madman´s thingamagoob made absolutely perfect duplicates, _identical_ in every way we could put to the test. Including feelings AND emotions. So, my other me ran away with my girl. Now, that was really annoying. Then he died, and my girlfriend got really uncomfortable around me for a good while, not that I could blame her." He shrugged dismissively. "So, yeah, I got you beaten in the duplication department. Hell, I am not even sure if I am the original! But, as things go by, I really cannot know, so I simply have to trust my gut, and my gut tells me I am Commander John Crichton."

"Really?" Misato kept on drying the plates.

"Cross my heart and hope to die." He did the traditional motions.

"And your friend Harvey? Is he also a duplicate?"

"Mmmmnot exactly." Crichton rocked his head left and right, "Did you ever had an imaginary friend?"

"I think so. At least, my mother told me so one time. I don´t really remember that."

"Well… Harvey was kinda my imaginary fiend. But we reached an agreement. And now he's out of my head. Which is what makes me think whatever happened to us, is related to what happened to you and your teen version. I will tell you the whole story later on. It´s quite weird. And it involves a really nasty guy. If you end up meeting him, shoot first, runs away as fast as you can, and don´t ask any questions later. That kind of guy."

Misato kept silent for a while. They kept on washing and drying plates for several minutes, while she thought on his words.

* * *

Harvey sat on a too small chair in the too small room, and looked around. "Must be a claustrophiliac," he mused to himself, "Not even a window. This place looks more like a cupboard than a bedroom." He shrugged, if Crichton´s memories were any indication, even regular humans were weird.

He studied the place. On the desk, a small tape player gathered dust. After a moment of idle curiosity, he turned back to his patient. He felt for a beating in the wrist, and checked. Pulse was regular, a bit quick, but not too much. Strong. The breathing was regular and shallow. More or less within normal parameters. He forced the eyelids of the right eye open, watching the pupil contract. He repeated the exam on the left eye.

Quite normal. As far as Harvey could tell without specialized equipment, the teenager was currently in a very deep sleep.

Harvey adjusted the blanket that covered the young man, turned the lights off, and exited the room, silently closing the sliding door behind him.

* * *

Asuka stood on the balcony, looking at the ruined city below. Their building was certainly the one that had best endured Third Impact. Apart from some fallen things and broken decorations, the place was in very good shape.

Absently, she scratched under the bandage that covered her eye.

´ _Damn! I failed.´_ she thought. ´ _Ten years of training, and it wasn't worth a damn_!´ Her left hand clutched the railing, almost denting it. ´ _Baka Shinji_.´ She reverted to her favorite excuse for anything that went wrong in her life.

She barely noticed when the other teenage girl joined her in the balcony. "um… Asuka?", she asked tentatively.

" _Miss_. Soryu." Asuka answered coldly, not turning to face the newcomer. "We are not in familiar terms. What do you want?"

"Just to talk. Old Misato is talking with Commander Crichton, and Harvey is checking on Shinji." Asuka snorted.

"Of course. _Everything_ revolves around him." She said bitterly.

"You know him well?" Young Misato asked, unknowingly stepping into a minefield.

Asuka bit her lip. With a violent motion, she turned towards the other girl. "I know him all too well! He is a useless waste of space! A fool! A Gott-damned pervert!" She hissed between clenched teeth.

Young Misato recoiled at the vitriol clear in Asuka´s voice.

"We could have stopped Third Impact had he not been a damned coward! But the cry-baby had to go all ´ _Boo-hoo. Woe of me! No one likes me. Everybody despises me!_ ´ Pathetic." She grabbed Misato´s arm, their faces just a few centimetres apart. "Look at me!" She pointed at the bandage over her eye. "If it wasn´t for his idiocy, I wouldn´t look like this! It´s all his fault!" She released the arm, and stomped back to her room, forcibly closing the sliding door.

Misato stayed on the balcony, shocked. Trying to reconcile the image Asuka had painted of Shinji, with the feelings and emotions she felt.

* * *

_**Florida  
Mega-Market, Warehouse.** _

" _Take all the cans that fit on the platform_ , she said." Stark pushed the loaded platform towards the shuttle, mockingly mimicking Chiana´s voice and mannerisms. " _I´ll take care of everything else_ , she said." He puffed and put the brakes on. He straightened up, looked around, and knelt. There was an orange stain on the floor. Once, there had been clothes over it, but the wind had picked them up, pushing them towards a wall. Only the dry stain remained.

Gingerly, the Banik extended a hand towards the orange flakes that had remained, almost touching them; most had already been blown away. "I am sorry. I don´t know who you are. I know you are in… somewhere. I hope you are happy there. I really do."

He stood up, and went back to pushing his load.

Next to the ship, D´Argo and Aeryn were busy unloading another platform. While the Luxan brought heavy packages into the ship, the ex-Peacekeeper made sure they were properly secured. Both worked in silence. Neither had really much use for idle talk at the moment.

D´Argo stopped for a moment, looking upwards. "Will be night soon." He said. "One more load and we should go back to Moya." He took the first box from Stark´s platform. "Where´s Chiana?"

"Back in the warehouse. She is filling up the other platform." Stark massaged his lower back.

D´argo snorted. "I´d better go check she´s not idle. I´m not loading more cholokates by myself. If Chiana wants more…" he left the rest of the words hanging in the silence.

"Yeah," Aeryn said, shaking her long hair aways from her face, "maybe she will listen to you."

* * *

_**Author Notes:** _

(1) Small worm-like creatures, about the length of a hand. In the Uncharted Territories, denticos are the equivalent to a toothbrush. They eat the remains of food in the mouth of the user, and, according to Crichton, they leave a minty taste afterwards. Fried denticos taste awful, BTW.

(2) Episode "My Three Crichtons", Season 2, Ep 10

(3) Episode "Eat Me", Season 3 Ep 06.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Who You Gonna Call (in Space)?_**

* * *

**_Note:_** Japanese dialogue will be set in parentheses.

* * *

 **_Ruins of Tokyo-3  
_ ** **_Katsuragi-Ikari-Soryu Apartment_ **

"This is your home terrain, Major Katsuragi. We would cover more terrain if we work in teams. Crichton in one, myself in another. We are at a serious disadvantage, not knowing your language." Harvey explained over a cup of coffee.

Misato nodded, "Yeah, if only there was a way to instantly translate languages."

Crichton rolled his eyes, "Translator microbes, M'am. But we don't have any at hand. We lost'em when we got here."

"Would come on handy, yeah. But we will have to do without'em for now."

Young Misato raised a hand. "Um… somebody should stay here with Shinji."

"Three teams, then." Misato said, decisively, "You stay in here and watch over Shinji along with Pen-Pen. Harvey, you and me are the first team. Crichton, you and Asuka. First, we are gonna need maps, walkie-talkies, and lots of batteries. There are several stores around this building that should have these items. You two go north, we go south."

Crichton and Harvey nodded. Harvey pulled a notebook and a pen. "Medical supplies and food too. I suggest we convene here in an hour, even if we have not found everything."

"Very well, but we meet at the lobby. Now, everybody has a watch?" They all checked their wrists.

Asuka snorted, "What about cell phones?"

"I really doubt there will be much of a service right now, Princess." Crichton commented. "But it would be prudent to check if the automated service is still working."

The German-raised pilot pulled a phone from a pocket. She had left her NERV-issue cell back in the locker room at the Geo-Front, but she kept another, for emergencies, at Misato's. It had little charge, but it would be enough. She speed-dialed the apartment. Everybody looked at the landline phone.

"Nothing. It's dead."

Misato dialed Asuka's number. "Hmm… it seems the land lines are still working."

Misato observed, "With so many retractable buildings, phone and optic fiber lines were set underground. All the cables above ground are for the electricity lines. I don't know why. And before you ask, most cooking in this city was done with electric stoves or microwave ovens. Except for a few pre-Second Impact style restaurants, which paid premium for stationary tanks. A couple even used wood or coal. Those were really, really expensive."

Crichton mumbled something like "Welcome to the world of tomorrrrow!"

Harvey ignored his companion, nodded wisely at Misato, and asked "What's the phone number of this apartment?" He pushed the notebook towards Misato, the pen neatly inserted in the spiral wire that held the pages together. Quickly, she wrote the number. Harvey looked at it as he stood up. "I'll be back in a minute."

A moment later, the phone rang. Crichton picked the phone up. "What's up, Harv? Yeah. Good to know." He put the receiver back in its cradle. "The land-lines work. That's good. For as long as that holds up, we have a back up comm system. Though I wouldn't bet they cover the whole city. With the kind of damage it was done, I bet there are places without functional lines."

Harvey returned a moment later. Quickly, he wrote the phone numbers of both apartments in a series of cards, handing two cards to each person. "Will be better if we memorize these as soon as possible. Keep the cards in different pockets, just in case."

Misato raised an eyebrow. Harvey shrugged. "Could be said it's not the first time I have been stuck in hostile territory."

Crichton raised a hand, "Nor an place with little functional technology. Gives you time to order your thought, but really messes with your calendar." (1)

"One more thing," Misato said, turning to her teenage counterpart. "Have you thought of a name or nickname?"

She nodded, "I don't want a completely new name. Call me Misao. It's quite close to my own name." (2)

"Okay, that's settled. Now, let's begin. We will call you as soon as we find something or every fifteen minutes. Our NERV I.D. cards double up as emergency cards in any pay phone in the city. We should stock on prepaid cards if we get the chance." (3)

Pen-Pen warked emphatically several times, flapping his flippers. Misato knelt next to him. "Keep an eye on those two, okay?"

The penguin stood in attention, and gave a short and decisive wark. He warked at Misao, and waddled towards Shinji's Lovely Suite. The two entered the room, leaving the door open.

"Okay, John, Harvey, go ahead to the lobby, I want to check on Shinji before we go." Once she heard the two foreigners steps going down the stairs, she turned to Asuka; now speaking in Japanese. "(Listen, Asuka. So far, those two have behaved. But I still won't trust them all the way.)"

Asuka stared at her, "(You were quite friendly with the big one last night.)"

"(Yeah, hedging my bets. If they are actually good boys, they will be on our side. If not, I have a few surprises under the airhead image.)"

Asuka nodded cautiously.

"(Harvey is kinda creepy, so I want to keep an eye on him. Crichton seems tense, but I think you can handle him if he gets loco. Here, keep these out of sight, but don't hesitate to use them if needed.)" She put a cutter in her hand. It was very similar to the extendable Progressive Knife Unit-02 was equipped with. Asuka took it without a word, slipping it in a pocket. Misato also gave her a small can of mace. "(Be very careful with this, don't get it in your eyes… eye… you get what I mean!)"

Misato stepped back, and in a moment, discarded the dangerous look in her eyes, and went back into the happy-go-lucky persona. "(Fine! Now we go out into the big bad city, Asuka.)"

The German pilot stood there for a moment. She had known Misato for years, and still she managed to surprise her from time to time.

She grabbed her backpack, and ran after Misato.

* * *

 **_Moya  
_ ** **_Cargo Bay_ **

Rygel hummed a hynerian song between his wide teeth. He was in a remarkably good humour.

The lander had made three trips so far, and one of the cargo bays was filling nicely with all kinds of food. For a race of nutcases, the humans were quite inventive developing methods to cook food. The instant soup cups were quite a finding, though some were too spicy for his refined tastes, they would do. He was sick of the bland food cubes, with barely any hint of flavor.

He opened a pack of chocolate cookies, inhaling deeply, enjoying the delicious smell. "Ahhh… yes, so delightful! Your friends will buy me back my empire. But you won't be around to see it." He took a moment to examine carefully a cookie, before devouring it in a single bite. While he chewed, he felt a lightness he had never felt before. Not even the most rare and expensive delicacies he had sampled during his reign could compare to this.

"Hard to believe a planet of dren-heads could produce such a delicacy."

He pulled out another cookie from the tube, and ate it in a second.

And another.

* * *

 **_Ruins of Tokyo-3  
_ ** **_Near the Katsuragi-Ikari-Soryu Apartment_ **

The city was dead.

No way around it. Whatever had happened here, whatever catastrophe had fallen on the rest of the world, Third Impact had killed the place. The silence was oppressive to an inconceivable point. Major Misato Katsuragi was not an imaginative person. She had a gift for improvising solutions to unsolvable problems, yes. But until now, she had never imagined a world so empty of life.

Not even a single cicada made noise. And after the unending summer Japan had endured for over a decade, the lack of that ever present noise was overwhelming. There were no birds, no insects, not even a cat or a dog in sight. At the moment, for all she knew, the only living creatures in the city, maybe even the world, were three teenagers, two foreigners, herself, and a genetically modified penguin.

She and her strange companion, the eccentric Harvey, walked carefully, the streets were full of debris. Both consequence of war, when the JSSDF had invaded Tokyo-3 before attacking NERV, and of the hell they had unleashed.

Asuka's report had been short and to the point. Sometime close to Misato's death, nine Evangelion Units, had joined the attack against NERV. And after the redhead had killed them all, despite being both outnumbered and practically unarmed. But the monstruous EVAs somehow regenerated, and having spent all the energy, Unit-02 was easy prey. The first worlds the gigantic biotech suffered translated into actual physical wounds for Asuka. Her eye almost destroyed, and her right arm split lenghtwise. And What followed was even worse. Misato had needed superhuman resolve to not empty her stomach at the vivid description Asuka made of her "death".

A voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Ah, I think we have arrived to a good place to check, Major." Harvey rubbed his chin. A small convenience store. Neither would know it was the very same Asuka had ran into during her joint synch training with Shinji.

"Food and drink. Yes." He said, avidly, rubbing his hands teathrically. The floor was covered with bright packages and cans, that had fell from the shelves during the JSSDF attacks. But it was easy to push them out of the way. Harvey touched the glass of one of the refrigerating units at the wall. "Good, still cold. We should grab some meat and dairy products before they spoil."

"Right…" Misato looked longingly at the cans of beer at the back. But no. Not now.

* * *

At the other side of the block, the other team had hit it big.

"Paydirt!" Crichton exclaimed, jarring Asuka out of her thoughts. They had found a well stocked electronics store close to the apartment. There was no electricity, the building was too small to merit its own generator, but Asuka had found several flashlights and batteries at the front window. There were several sets of walkie-talkies in a showcase, right at the entry, apparently, the latest model.

While Crichton opened the boxes, the German girl looked around. The astronaut had the feeling the girl was very angry, for some reason. Her whole body language radiated anger, even when she was standing still.

"So," he cleared his throat, "what's the story?"

She turned back to face him, her blue eye almost blazed in the shadow. "Was?"

"The story, Princess. Katsuragi told me some things about things after Second Impact. And some of your fights with the 'Angels', not the name I would have chosen, but hey, who I'm I to tell you guys what to call your giant monsters." At the same time, his eyes flickered back and forth between Asuka and the instruction manual. He was thankful it was in several languages, including English, and began to insert the batteries.

Asuka raised her head imperiously. "Hmph, if you must know, I was the Second Child, selected to pilot an Evangelion Unit when I was four years old."

To Crichton's ears, the pride in her voice sounded a bit, just a bit, bitter.

"Long training, I was ready to climb walls, after the first month of astronaut camp." Over the counter, Crichton slid a walkie-talkie towards Asuka, and opened the other one in the set. "Here, these will be powerful enough for now. Let's synch at frequency One, and test if they work, Okay? We gotta get some military grade units later. You were saying?"

Asuka snorted again. "Yeah, it was so I could be the best pilot I could possibly be. It was my great chance. And then the Baka comes and blows everything without even a day of training." The bitterness certainly was there.

"The Squirt? Really? Doesn't seem the type to pilot a frelling giant robot."

At last! Somebody agreeing with her!

"Too violent." Crichton continued, shrugging. "A pilot must keep their cool, and use the brain." He proceeded to pick up several sets of walkie-talkies, all the same model. According to the manual, up to eight units could be connected in a network, as long as there were mo more potent sources of radio signals in the area. 'Well… I don't think that's gonna be a problem. But if it is, then we will know there's somebody else around and transmitting!"

"Him? Violent?" Asuka laughed, "He was a doormat! He wanted to step down from the EVA program and go back to whatever boring place he came from!"

"Really? Then what drove him to try to strangle _you_ with his bare hands?"

Asuka inhaled sharply. "We better finish here."

Crichton stared at her for a moment. He decided not to press. The girl was even pricklier than Aeryn had been back when she had just gotten basically exiled from the only life she had known.

Aeryn…

Crichton frowned. Hopefully Moya would still be up there. She had sustained some damage before entering that strange wormhole. He needed a way to get the guys to pick them up. The walkie-talkies would be enough to communicate inside to the city, but their range was quite limited, even for military grade sets.

"Hey, Princess. We are gonna need a short wave radio. Know where we could find one?"

"No, why? Think there's somebody else around?" She scoffed. "Like in those zombie movies?" She mimicked putting the mike close to her mouth, "Is there anybody else alive? Please come rescue me… Help, no! The dead are all around meeee! They are gonna eat meeee!"

"Mnnnope. I hope it won't come to that. Even if there are more survivors. I didn't mean _around_. I meant _Up_." He pointed directly to the sky. "Some friends from outta town. Waaaay outta town. I hope they are still around."

"Yeah, sure. More astronauts? Aliens? As if." She crosses her arms beligerantly.

Crichton managed a crooked smile. ' _I'm beggining to see why the Squirt snapped…_ ' he thought. He shook his head. "Wait and see, Princess. Let me think." He tapped his fingers on the counter, making a rhythmic sound. "We are gonna need a shortwave transmitter, and a manual for ham radio. Aaaand… a phone book." He pulled a thick book from under the counter (4), letting it fall heavily on the dusty surface. "Let your fingers do the walking." He smiled smugly at Asuka.

* * *

**_Author Notes:_ **

With this chapter, the story is now synced with the original version in FFN. From now on, updates will be irregular and simultaneous in both sites

(1) Like in "Jeremiah Crichton", Season 1, ep. 14. Crichton gets stranded in a low-tech planet, befriends the natives, and basically, has a three months vacation. Although things get complicated when his friends finally come to the rescue.

(2) A little homage to "Altered Destinies", by Mike313. In that story, Misato gets de-aged to 14 years old, keeping her memory and mental capabilities. She takes the name "Misao", masquerading as her own cousin. I won't spoil the rest, enough to say it is one of the stories that inspired me to write my own.

(3) Obviously, not the pre-paid cards for cell-phones. But for public phones. Misato, Shinji and Asuka could use their NERV ID cards instead, but Crichton, Harvey, and Misao don't have one of those.

(4) I'm not sure exactly how the Japanese phone books were printed and bound. For my purposes, the ones used post-Second Impact would be just like the stereotypical phone book that is always getting its pages ripped by the protagonist or the villain. (Like in Terminator)


	14. Fly (Us) to the Moon

**_Moya, Geostationary Orbit Above Florida, USA_ **

"Officer Sun! Officer Sun!" Pilot's frantic voice brought Aeryn Sun out of a not very restful sleep.

She tried to stand, only to entangle herself in the blankets, falling down to the floor with a whuumph. She untangled herself with some effort. "Pilot? What's going on?"

"Moya has picked up a new radio signal! It seems to be from Commander Crichton!"

"Where is it coming from?" She was dressing hurriedly. Hope and mistrust fighting in her mind. She squashed both, she wanted all available information first.

"Moya has not pinpointed it yet, it's coming from the lit half of the planet. According to her, the signal was bounced in the ionosphere. She can't determine the exact point of origin unless we triangulate the point of origin; but at the moment…"

"I get it. Maintenance. We will have to use the shuttle for that. Has this supposed Crichton broadcast his location?"

"No. Not yet. I thought it would be prudent to gather information. I'm recording the transmission as we speak."

Aeryn was now pulling her left boot on. "Well done, Pilot. I'm on my way to the bridge. Send the others there."

"Understood, Officer Sun."

* * *

Soon after, Aeryn stood on the bridge, waiting for the others. D'Argo was the first to arrive, still adjusting his red tunic under the Qualta Blade harness. "Chiana is indisposed. Too many crackers." He grumbled.

Zhaan and Stark entered the bridge together. Stark yawned widely, rubbing his uncovered eye. The Delvian priestess looked well rested, she had probably been meditating. "Where's Rygel?" She asked.

Pilot's hologram answered, "Dominar Rygel is still in his room. It seems he is indisposed too. I can hear him groaning. Though it doesn't seem like he is in pain. He yelled at me to leave him alone."

"We will inform them later, then. Pilot, play the transmission." Aeryn asked.

Pilot's head bobbed up and down in the image. "Moya cleared most of the static, it is very clear now."

A very well known voice rang in the air, "Hey! Hey! Hey! Boys and girls! Here's your favorite DJ speaking! Bad Boy Jooooohny Crichton, with the latest news on plaaanet Earth."

D'Argo snorted, "That sounds like Crichton." He rubbed his temples. "As long as he doesn't sing…"

"I hope you're still up there in Moya, listening. Pay attention, please. I'm down on Earth, I don't know exactly how I ended up down here, but here I am. I have a few people with me, we're mostly okay, but we would really appreciate if you guys could come and pick us up. This place is not exactly livin' la vida loca, if you get my drift."

Aeryn looked around, to the container with John's clothes and the strange orange goo.

Crichton continued, "I'll be transmitting in this frequency each arn, approximately, for as long as I have power. We are in a city called Tokyo-3, right in Japan, _exactly_ where that gigantic apparition was. Please bring some medical supplies, we have a human girl with an eye and an arm injured, she is mostly healed, so it is not an emergency , but better safe than sorry. Oh, and the only male teen is gonna need some therapy. He had a mental breakdown yesterday, and also has a lot of war induced trauma, all in the last year, I mean cycle. So, Smurfette? I hope you can check the kids up, please. Please get some herbal tea and your meditation stuff ready, okay?"

Zhaan exhaled in irritation, but she would do as asked. She began a list in her head.

Another voice spoke, but the words were too faint to be understood. Crichton must have heard it clearly, "yes, yes. I was coming to that, Harvey. Listen guys, this is _very_ important, we have no translator microbes. It seems I misplaced mine, and the others never had them. We are three human adults, and three teenagers," a weird sound intruded, it sounded like a waark. Crichton continued, his voice muffled for a second, Aeryn had the impression he had rubbed his face, covering his mouth for a moment, "…and a penguin, a kind of bird, but that's not important now. Just bring enough translator microbes for everybody, okay? or we will be playing a lot of charades."

Pilot pushed several buttons on his console, "I'm preparing the DRDs with enough microbes for the group."

Aeryn nodded her approval.

"Another thing, guys, these people has never met anybody who didn't look like a hum…an… like a sebacean, so please, please, please, don't be offended if they stare at you people." He sighed, "Yes, just like I did that first day, okay? Just let me play ambassador until they get used to it, and viceversa. Well, th-th-that's all for now, folks. I hope I'll be seeing you guys soon. And Aeryn? I love you, baby. This is John Crichton, signing off. _Good night, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are._ "

The group stayed silent for a few microts, until D'Argo voiced what they were all thinking. "Who's that Mrs. Calabash?"(1)

* * *

**_Ruins of Tokyo-3  
_ ** **_Katsuragi-Ikari-Soryu Apartment_ **

Crichton turned the HAM radio off, noted the time in a notebook and set an alarm in his watch. "Well, I hope they will come down soon. Eventually. Some day."

Misato raised an eyebrow. "Smurfette?"

"That's my pet name for Zhaan. She's more than three apples high, and bald as a cue ball, but she's blue. She's also a priestess of a religion from her world. Also, she is actually a plant. Zhaan is the closest we have to a medic on board."

"You told me about your friends, but without the nicknames." Misato remarked.

"Ah, yes. Okay, gals. Time to tell you all about my friends up there."

* * *

Crichton described Moya's crew to the group, emphasizing that most of them were technically, escaped convicts. "They are mostly good people. But good is not necessarily nice, so don't go around testing them. That goes double for you, Princess. You're kinda prickly." He waved at Asuka.

With her one visible eye, Asuka glared at him.

Crichton crossed his arms, "That's exactly what I mean. Try to pull that attitude with D'Argo, and you will not like the result."

"What, would he hit a girl? I can take care of myself."

"Don't you say I did not warn you." Crichton stood up and stretched. "D'Argo is like a big red bear. He's big, good to have on your side in a fight, but he's above everything else…"

Asuka interrupted him, "…a fluffy teddy bear?"

"Nope. A big _bear_. A gruff bear. I've known him for about three years, and I'm still not completely sure he won't hulk out at any time. And I'm not joking. Luxans can get in a berserker rage if provoked enough. They can't, and I mean it, they can't tell friend from foe when they are raging." Unconsciously, Crichton rubbed his throat for a moment. "Respect is the key word. Don't crowd him. He has a poisonous tongue. Literally, a poisonous tongue, and has a good six to eight feet reach. One sting, and you're down for the count. I'm sure he will cut you some slack on account of being a child, but don't count on that."

"I am NOT a child!" Asuka slammed her hand on the table, making Misao jump on her seat. "I am the Second Chi… an Evangelion Pilot, a warrior!" She slipped into Angrish for several seconds.

Crichton simply waited until the german girl finished her rant, "Until and unless you have proven you can keep your cool in a fight, you will be a child." Crichton said with complete calm. "In the meanwhile, keep the temper tantrums to a minimum, okay?"

Asuka huffed, but sat down. She crossed her arms and scowled.

Crichton continued, "Frell! Even Rygel can be dangerous. He might look like a two feet high froggy muppet on a floating throne (2), but he has a really devious mind when it suits him. Big ego, I guess being a deposed monarch has something to do with that. And he is cunning and sneaky. I do banter with him and call him names, but I do owe him and his sneaky little mind my life several times."

"Stark might be the less dangerous of the lot, but he has a couple screws loose in that noggin'. He gets agitated easily. Still, he is not really violent when he's freaking out. He could harm himself accidentally, though. He has a metal half mask over the right side of his face, so his depth perception is not the best. Escaped slave, met him in a cell."

Crichton looked around, to make sure his warnings would not be disregarded.

"Major, I think you'll find some common ground with my girl, Aeryn Sun. She's an ex-Peacekeeper, her race looks completely human, but kinda like…" he snapped his fingers several times, "they are the Empire; basically, all they need is a Death Star and Darth Vader." He looked at Harvey, who knowing what would come next, just rolled his eyes, "well… maybe just the Death Star."

"Then, there's Chiana, or Pip. Our lovable rogue. Con artist, light-fingers, whiter than white, really. Very independent. Very smart, and very stubborn. Her race, the Nebari, are like a combo of 1984 and A Brave New World. They brainwash their rogue elements, who afterwards believe that's how things should be. Chiana would do anything to keep her brain dirty. She loves to pry, too. She's with D'Argo, by the way. Her, you should push back, verbally; don't get into a fight with her, okay? Give as good as you get, otherwise, she won't respect you. Be playful too. She likes to tease in any way she can."

Misato smiled like the Cheshire Cat, "Sounds like she'll have some competition in that area."

Crichton shrugged, "Pilot, by name and by trade. He has no other name, as far as I know. He is like a cross of a humanoid, an insect, and a control panel. He lives at the center of Moya, and he can't leave his post; he literally is part of the ship, joined at the hip. They are true symbionts. He's the most mellow of the group, but his patience is limited. You bug him too much, you better grab at something."

"Moya, the living ship. Loyal and Brave, with capital L and capital B. We can't really communicate directly with her, only Pilot can. She was enslaved by Aeryn's people, the Peacekeepers. The guys, except for Stark and Chiana, managed to free her from Peacekeeper control just a little before I crashed into the Uncharted Territories. She and the other Leviathans have a nifty trick, Starbursting. It's like jumping into hyperspace, but with more dimension jumping, I think. Thing is, they disappear here, and reappear light years away. She… she just lost her baby. His name was Talyn. He saved us from a Peacekeeper attack."

"The DRDs are like little droids, about the size of a cat. They do small tasks all around and over Moya. Not really self aware. Moya and Pilot can direct them to do what they want, but are able to work on their own if they have some basic instructions."

"Our situation as a group is not really good. We are all on the run from the authorities. Some due to things we had no control over, or were framed for, or manipulated into, or whatever. Officially, we are dangerous convicts on the run. Except for this guy," he pointed at Harvey with his thumb. "He is new to all this. Before yesterday, he was just a mind virus in my head, put there by Peacekeeper Vader. Somehow, he did a Pinocchio and now he's a real boy. And I think Misao came to be in a similar way."

Misato leaned back on the couch, "You have to explain that."

Harvey stood up, clasping his hands at his back as he paced. "Yes. From the beginning, I think it will be best. Crichton arrived to the Uncharted Territories, our part of the Galaxy, via a wormhole," Misao raised a hand, Harvey looked at her, guessed her question, and continued, "a tunnel through space, it send him across the Galaxy in just a few minutes." Misao lowered her hand.

"An old race made contact with him, and put advanced knowledge about wormholes into his subconscious mind. For their own reasons. Crichton came to the attention of Scorpius, a high ranking associate of the Peacekeepers."

Crichton added, "Peacekeeper Vader."

Harvey sighed and shook his head, "Yes, Peacekeeper Vader. Never gonna live that down…" He mumbled. "Scorpius is a hybrid. Half-sebacean, and half Scarran. The Scarrans are a warrior race of reptiloids. Enemies of the Peacekeepers. Scorpius is the only survivor of a eugenics program, he hates them to the core of his being, and will do anything to rid the universe of the Scarran taint." Crichton snickered, but kept silence.

"Scorpius captured Crichton, and realizing he had the chance to obtain a potentially devastating new weapon, tortured Crichton."

"That was when I met Stark, by the way. In Scorpius' dungeon." Crichton's face held a grim gesture.

"May I continue?"

"Sure, go ahead, Harv."

"Harrumph. Scorpius implanted a microchip in Crichton's brain, with a copy of his own mind, to ferret Crichton's secrets from the inside, in case Crichton escaped his grasp, as it happened soon."

"I began to see Scorpius anywhere, and in the worst possible moments too. I though I was going mucho loco (3)"

"Actually, he was perceiving me. Eventually, Scorpius recaptured Crichton, recovered the microchip, and the story should have ended there, but turns out a residue of the duplicate remained in Crichton's mind, meaning, me. Took us time, but we reached an agreement. I would kept out of his way, and would appear to him only when needed for our continued existence."

"Not the best arrangement, from my point of view." Crichton waved his hands. "But manageable."

"Assuming I believe all that, how come you are now walking around?" Misato looked at each one in turn.

Harvey raised a finger, "Ahem, that is an excelent question. I think, though I can't prove it, that the false paradise we were in, deals with a very personal type of illusion, and it works for any _mind_ included in the gestalt. It seems I am more than just a copy of Scorpius, and developed into my own person."

"Then…" Misato and Misao looked at each other, realization on their faces. "That would mean I…"

Harvey nodded, "I'm afraid it is so. You developed a secondary personality after the trauma inflicted by Second Impact. When you entered the false paradise, each aspect of your mind became its own entity."

"But… then which one is the real Misato Katsuragi?" Misao asked, only to be dope-slapped by Asuka.

"Both are real, you fool!" The readhead huffed impatiently. "You were the base personality! Misato grew from your mind, and neither is more real than the other at this point!"

"That could be debatable. Misato and Misao seem to have the same memories up to Second Impact, but Misao has no recollection of later events, except for some vague impressions." Harvey mused, "Also, their personalities seems a bit different. I am very good at reading people. Misao is more open about her feelings, while Misato is an expert at hiding them behind misdirection." He shrugged. "Though I admit that could be simply due to life experiences."

Crichton rubbed his chin. "Works for me. in any case, you two are now independent and complete individuals. If either or both of you need to talk about having a double, i can help." He offered.

* * *

**_An Arn Later_ **

The two small shuttles floated in space, at a respectable distance from Moya. Aeryn Sun in one, Ka D'Argo in the other. They waited in silence, until a discrete Ping! rang.

As soon as Crichton's voice began to babble, they began to track the source of the emission.

Pilot's voice answered in the same frequency. "Commander Crichton, we receive your transmission and will be arriving to your position shortly."

"Woo-woo-woo! Pilot! Ole Buddy, Ole Pal! Your voice is a sound for sore ears! I can't understand a single word of what you said, but I hope it was 'we're coming to pick you and your new buddies up'. We will put up a smoke signal for you! Or shine a light in the window if you come after sundown!"

It would take them a couple of arms to arrive to the position.

* * *

**_Author Notes_ **

(1) This was one of Jimmy Durante's catchfrases. He closed his radio show with it. He was a famous entertainer back in the middle 20th Century.

(2) Well… Rygel was practically a muppet, as the practical effects for all creatures in Farscape were done by the Jim Henson Company.

(3) The correct phrasing is "muy loco" in Spanish. "Mucho loco" means "(too) many crazies". Though in this context, it should just be "loco" (crazy) or for effect "bien loco" (very/completely crazy).


End file.
